


You Talk Too Much: McHanzo Edition

by Energy_Purple



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Background Relationships, Bottom Jesse McCree, Canon-Typical Violence, Caught in the Act, Closet Sex, Competition, Dialogue Heavy, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Hanzo, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gaming streams, Gen, Hana needs brain bleach, Hanzo is an exhibitionist, Hanzo is bad at flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Introspection, Jesse gets his hug, Jesse has low self esteem, Jesse needs a hug, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, M/M, Major character death (dreamed), Massages, Mission Fic, Mission Gone Wrong, Misunderstandings, Moira Knows Everything, Morrison is a dick, Multi, Nightmares, Noodle Dragons, Our boys are bad at talking, Plan to get McHanzo together, Possessive Hanzo Shimada, Praise Kink, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fic, Protective Ana, Realisations, Sad Jesse McCree, Secret Plans, Semi-Public Sex, Serious Injuries, Sick Fic, Smut, Teasing, Thirsty boys are thirsty, Trust Issues, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voice Lines, flustered Jesse, hurt!Jesse, sad Hanzo, tags to be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:38:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Energy_Purple/pseuds/Energy_Purple
Summary: 31 Days of McCree and Hanzo's relationship, as explored through the different character voice lines and interactions within Overwatch!A new fic every day so keep checking back - tags will be evolving and changing with each update!Day 1: I'm your Huckleberry (McCree)Day 2: Children, behave! (Ana)Day 3: I can bench more than you! (Zarya)Day 4: I'm so scared (Pharah)Day 5: No snowflake ever falls in the wrong place (Zenyatta)Day 6: I'm sorry, sorry, I'm sorry, sorry! (Mei)Day 7: Violence is usually the answer (Roadhog) (Part 1 of 3)Day 8: And they say chivalry is dead! (Doomfist) (Part 2 of 3)Day 9: I have my eye on you (Mercy) (Part 3 of 3)Day 10: You look like you've seen a ghost (Reaper)Day 11: Why are you so angry? (Lucio)Day 12: Winky face (D.Va)Day 13: That's Sir you to (Soldier 76)Day 14: I choose you, spirit dragon (Hanzo)Day 15: Stupidity is not a right (Moira)Day 16: Do you need a hug? (Orisa)Day 17: I give it a ten! (Junkrat) (Part 1 of 2)Day 18: Inconspicuous (Junkrat) (Part 2 of 2)Day 19: Don't sass me (McCree)





	1. Chapter One: I'm your Huckleberry (McCree)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> So a bit of a preamble here - I'm a bipolar writer currently in a severe depressive episode and one of my recovery/motivational goals is to write a short fic a day for the whole of December. I'm a ridiculously big McHanzo fan and really want to try and explore their relationship from the perspective of other heroes via their voice lines! (Favourite lines of dialogue, hero interactions, doesn't matter who it is - the whole gang is going to be here!)
> 
> If you have any prompts, feel free to leave them below! Current voice line prompts are:
> 
> "Do you need a hug?" - Orisa  
> "Children, behave!" - Ana  
> "Stupidity is not a right!" - Moira  
> "Inconspicuous" - Junkrat  
> "I can bench more than you" - Zarya
> 
> There's gonna be fluff! Angst! Smut! Drama! Chaos! Mayhem! Hopefully a little bit of something for everybody to enjoy :)
> 
> This is my first time writing for this fandom/pairing, and the first fic I've written in over two years, so feel free to leave any comments or reviews for me! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy guys and I look forward to this challenge with you all! :D

The corridors of the watchpoint had seen some sights over the years, could probably tell a million stories if the walls could talk. First kisses. Last goodbyes. Laughter. Tears. Fghts. Make ups – _some very risky, noisy, probably should’ve been done in private where Winston and Ana couldn’t find them make ups_ , Jesse’s mind supplied as he felt a faint flush creep over his face – but he could guarantee almost certainly nothing like the scene now.

“You know,” Jesse mused, his voice rich with amusement and fondness that he could only partially blame on his level of drunkenness. “That sake’s not half bad but… I prefer a little bite to my liquor.”

He could almost feel the eyes rolling against his neck, Hanzo’s temple resting on his shoulder as the smaller man gave a snort. “How predictable! Such unsophisticated taste!”

The seriousness of Hanzo’s words though were heavily undercut with an almost childish slur as he wrinkled his nose adorably, the tip pressing to the bare skin of Jesse’s throat just above his shirt collar. Jesse said nothing, pausing in his steps to reaffirm his grip underneath Hanzo’s thighs as he hoisted him back up onto his hips, the heels of Hanzo’s feet digging into the small of Jesse’s back and the archer’s arms wrapped securely around Jesse’s shoulders, before setting off in the direction of their shared quarters.

The mission had been a resounding success in every way. All objectives achieved, no sign that the Talon operatives in the area even knew they were there as the team had secured the data hard drives from the warehouse. Not even a single injury except for the paper cut Jesse had gotten when he’d grabbed the extra files on the desk on the way out.

Angela had been so ridiculously proud when they redocked back at Gibraltar.

It had been a relatively small affair – Jesse and Genji infiltrating the building, Hanzo providing cover from the roof ledge of the office block just across the street, Zenyatta and Lucio hunkered down in a café a little further towards their extraction point in case anything went wrong. It had been such smooth sailing, so perfectly executed that Lucio’s order of fries hadn’t even reached the table before Jesse was radioing in and they were on the move.

Lucio had mourned those fries the entire journey back to the watchpoint, complaining to the point that Genji and Zen had promised to stop and buy Lucio all the fries he could eat when they headed out for a quick supply run. They returned with more than just fries, but also enough sake and omnic beer to signal a good night ahead. They’d earned it after all, and other than a stern warning from Angela about what would happen if any of them ended up in her office, there was nothing to stop them from heading down to the otherwise empty rec room and rewarding themselves. Zen and Lucio had retired early on into proceedings, leaving Jesse, Hanzo and Genji to carry on into the small hours of the morning.

Sitting back into the couch, a glass of whiskey resting lazily against his upturned lips, Jesse had observed quietly as Hanzo and Genji got drunk off sake and the warmth of their ever-strengthening bond. The sound of barked laughter, of jokes and shared memories that eventually descended into breathy Japanese as they struggled to contain their merriment made Jesse’s heart swell in his chest. When Genji’s hand had come up to ruffle through Hanzo’s hair light-heartedly, Hanzo pushing playfully at Genji’s shoulder with an uninhibited smile lighting his face as he took another swig from the nearly emptied bottle of sake, there was no tension.

They were just two brothers enjoying each other’s company, Jesse merely a tired and content spectator as he watched the two most important people in his life at peace.

Unfortunately, that peace had led to a considerable amount of alcohol being consumed, and whilst Genji had some unholy blend of ninja and omnic powers on his side that allowed him to walk back to his quarters unaffected after exchanging goodnights with the cowboy, Hanzo wasn’t quite as lucky.

Which had led to this point, Hanzo latched onto Jesse like a baby koala as Jesse had carried the drunk and happy archer through the corridors of the watchpoint, Hanzo’s face burying into the crook of Jesse’s neck. Hanzo’s lips were pressed in an open-mouthed ring against the throbbing pulse point, his soft exhales tickling the sensitive skin there. His fingertips were drawing lazy circles against Jesse’s shoulder blades, and not the first time Jesse felt in awe of the sheer affection washing over him as he gave Hanzo’s thigh a gentle squeeze with his metal hand, turning his face just enough to brush a barely there kiss against Hanzo’s salt and peppered temple.

“Nearly there, sweetheart.” Jesse’s voice was a smoky rasp lost against the side of Hanzo’s head, but his gentle murmurings weren’t intended for anyone else than the archer in his arms.

It was a bit of a juggle trying to open the door to their shared quarters, Hanzo unhelpfully refusing to co-operate with Jesse as the cowboy struggled not to drop his precious cargo. He just snuggled in deeper as Jesse negotiated them inside. Hanzo continued to refuse to let go of his hold on Jesse even when he could feel the bed beneath them, Jesse huffing out a gentle chuckle when Hanzo pulled Jesse down on top of him, their limbs a tangle and their faces merely inches from each other.

Despite the haze of sake, there was a startling depth and clarity to Hanzo’s eyes, almost as if they could see into the very depths of Jesse’s soul, and Jesse almost couldn’t swallow the sudden lump that stuck in his throat. It was rare that Hanzo was this unguarded, this open, and it was as profoundly beautiful as it had been the first time Hanzo had let Jesse past his defenses.

“Hey there, pumpkin,” Jesse whispered thickly, Hanzo’s gaze sparkling at the term of affection.

“Hello Jesse”, and the content rumble in Hanzo’s gravelled tone as he leaned up to press a soft kiss to the cowboy’s lips, his calloused fingertips running through Jesse’s beard, would have been enough to melt even the hardest of hearts.

They broke apart after what felt like the longest time, Jesse’s fingers playing through Hanzo’s hair as the archer gave a stifled yawn.

“Time for bed, huckleberry.”

It was obvious that Hanzo was fighting a losing battle against the tide of drunken sleepiness claiming him as Jesse moved to kick off his boots, his spurs rattling as they hit the ground. He rolled onto his back so that Hanzo could rest his head against Jesse’s chest, the archer’s arms circling his waist. There was no point in even trying to fight out of clothes at this point, not if it meant letting go of Hanzo for even a second.

“I’m your huckleberry…” Hanzo mumbled as let his eyes slip closed, and the smile that split Jesse’s face as he tangled his flesh fingers with Hanzo’s was the last thing he saw before drifting off.

“Always, darlin’, always.”


	2. Chapter Two: Children, behave! (Ana)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2! This got a little bit more angsty than I intended to, but I'm happy with it :)
> 
> As before, feel free to leave any comments, reviews or suggestions for me!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The atmosphere in the training room was so tense you could probably taste it from the other side of the watchpoint. There were no words spoken, nothing except frustrated sighs, the ring of gun shot, and the thud as the bullets hit the unfortunate training bots at the other end of the range. ATHENA hadn’t been keeping count, the usual statistics and performance analysis painfully absent.

As was the presence of Hanzo.

Even thinking the archer’s name made a scowl curl Jesse’s lips as he reloaded Peacekeeper with more force than necessary, flicking the bangs back from his face as he resumed his stance. It was almost as natural as breathing at this point, but Jesse could still hear the ancient whispers of Gabriel’s rough, authoritative tone in his ears.

Lean back on your heel. Shoulders down. Relax your elbow. Hand steady. Deep breath. Shoot.

At times like this, the routine was soothing. It gave Jesse the chance to get out of his head. All that mattered was the weight of the gun in his hand, that split second of silence before he pulled the trigger. It was reliable, trusting, he thought bitterly as he let off another round.

Much like he thought his partner to be.

Jesse snorted harshly, stamping down on the brief tightness in his chest as another bullet hit between the eyes of his target. He came here to calm down, not to wind himself up any worse than he already was.

He knew that his anger and feelings of hurt were misplaced. It just happened sometimes. Hanzo and he could both be pig-headed when they felt like they were being threatened, resorting to icy insults and scathing words. It didn’t mean that it was any easier to deal with though, Jesse thought rather soberly as he unloaded another clip into the training bot. They’d both been stressed and strung out with exhaustion when Winston had called them into his office, an apologetic frown on his face. Back to back missions weren’t anything unusual – hell, considering how thin the team was right now with Morrison and Reinhardt out through injury, D.Va’s mech needing repairs and Tracer stuck in London, it was business as always. Jesse was one of the few experienced agents who knew how to lead and call a mission, and Hanzo’s skills and instincts were invaluable on the field – the cowboy almost took it as a compliment that he’d been the one to step up.

It wasn’t supposed to be anything complicated, just a simple payload capture down in the southwestern states. Hanzo and Zarya running interference and keeping the perimeter locked down, Jesse to get in and out, and Junkrat to rig up and detonate the payload once all the data was retrieved. Ana was assigned for support, but that was only in case it was needed.

Jesse had been glad she was there.

He didn’t know if it was because of the lack of sleep, the aching in his muscles from nearly a month’s worth of running around, or if there was simply something in the air – it’s not like the southwest held any particularly fond memories for him after all – but Jesse’s gut had told him that this wasn’t going to be easy. Hanzo hadn’t been in the greatest of moods either, his withering objections and surliness knowing no bounds on the ride over as his stony glare had all but stripped the paint off the jets walls.

Jesse was okay though – he knew that regardless of Hanzo’s disposition, the archer would be the utmost professional and his right hand man once the mission started. And the sooner it was over, the faster they could both be back in bed, curled up together and enjoying a precious few moments of peace.

Jesse snorted again, trying to ignore the fine tremor in his wrist and the burning behind his eyes.

Hanzo knew how to do his job better than anyone else. He was the wandering ronin after all, years of being on the run sharpening his skills and making him nigh unstoppable once he got started. The only problem with that kind of life was that it made it difficult to bend to authority at times. Even if the authority in this instance was Jesse. And hell, Jesse wasn’t stupid enough to deny that he had the same issues, the barked military orders of Morrison grating on his nerves something proper and the hesitancy in Winston’s commands making him roll his eyes, but he thought that Hanzo would be able to get past that for at least a few hours.

For him.

 _Guess I was wrong_ , Jesse thought bitterly as he lowered Peacekeeper, just staring at the far wall as he remembered what happened on the jet.

.........................................................................

_“How could you be so reckless? There was no need for you to make such a play and it very nearly compromised the mission!”_

_“But it didn’t, did it? You sayin’ I don’t know how to do my job, Hanzo?” Jesse’s tone had been in jest, but it was plain to hear the undercurrent of defensive there._

_“I am saying that you need to stop acting like you are better than the rest of your colleagues just because you think you’re in charge!”_

_“I never said I was better than anyone else here! Maybe the reason I’m in charge instead of you is because I can actually work with people!”_

_“Or maybe,” Hanzo had spat out poisonously, “it’s because you still have delusions that you can be more than this, that you can follow in the footsteps of your heroes and idols who turned out to be nothing more than murderers and shadows.”_

_That had been a low blow, and Jesse had been unable to hold back the hurt and betrayal that darkened his eyes, his entire posture slumping as he bit his bottom lip._

_**“Children, behave!”** _

_Jesse had no idea when Ana had moved from her post up in the cockpit to stand in between the two men. Her voice was laced with the threat of what would happen if they continued to argue, her hand on Jesse’s shoulder as she glared at Hanzo. Hanzo’s heckles had raised instantly as he rounded on the older woman._

_“I am not a child, and I refuse to be address as such by the likes of you!”_

_The only indication that Ana had heard Hanzo was a single raised eyebrow._

_“I will stop addressing you as a child when you stop acting like one. There is nothing to be gained from arguing like petulant youths. Now I suggest, my dear, that you sit down and think about what you just said.”_

_Hanzo’s nostrils had flared dangerously, and for a moment Jesse had been convinced that the archer was going to say something else he regretted, but he just pursed his lips sullenly, a ground out “fine” ending all chance of further words as he’d stalked off to the back of the jet._

_Jesse had let out a long, painful breath as he’d slumped forward, Ana’s hand briefly squeezing his shoulder; it was only for a moment, but Jesse was grateful nonetheless. The intensity of the stare that Jesse could feel directed his way had made his stomach clench, making him feel smaller than he’d felt in a long time._

_“He did not mean it like that, Jesse. He is just frustrated and tired, as are we all.”_

_Jesse gave a sigh, his muscles aching as he felt the tension drain from him._

_“Maybe,” he had breathed out softly as his eyes dropped to the floor. He was beyond exhausted._

_Ana had merely given him an almost motherly smile as she had straightened up his hat, and in that moment Jesse could’ve wept from the gentleness. She pushed him in the direction of one of the free seats, as far from the brooding archer Jesse could just about catch out of the corner of his eye as he could be._

_“Look after yourself Jesse, I’ll get us home safe,” she intoned firmly as she’d returned to the cockpit, ignoring the toxic silence that hung in the air for the rest of the journey home._

....................................................................

Jesse had squirreled himself away in the practice range as soon as they’d landed. At times like this, he needed the distraction, something to focus on other than the ball of emotions sitting low in his gut. He didn’t know where Hanzo had gone, the smaller man disappearing without a trace the second the door had opened, and he could escape, but Jesse didn’t want to think about that right now.

He knew that he’d been a little bit reckless on the mission at times, getting a little bit overconfident, a swagger in his step as he’d gone about his task. He knew that he’d come close to blowing the whole mission when he’d walked around the corner humming an off-tone tune and come face to face with a small pocket of Talon agents he’d have known were there if he’d been listening to his comms properly. He didn’t think that Hanzo would get so worked up about it to be fair; the archer had done the same many times for the same reasons.

But what he’d said about Jesse thinking he was better than them? The underhanded comment about Reyes – because who else would Hanzo have been referring to? – a father figure to Jesse, someone that the cowboy still idolised and pined for in his own way, the first person to give a damn about the stray waif of a child he’d rescued from Deadlock… Someone who Jesse loved and hated in equal measures? Someone who’d been his saviour and his downfall for so long?

Yeah, that had cut way too close to the bone.

As the ringing of the last six bullets in the chamber hit the destroyed training bot, Jesse could hear the faint noise of the practice range door opening, and a pained grimace swept his face. He could feel Hanzo’s presence before he could see or hear him – the downside to having a ninja as a partner – and Jesse took a few moments to set down Peacekeeper and steel himself before finally turning around.

Hanzo looked both distraught and ashamed, his hair dishevelled and his face pale in a way that made him look like a scalded puppy. Hanzo’s fingers were clenching at his side, and Jesse could see the way that Hanzo swallowed down what had to be a large lump in his throat. It made Jesse’s heart hurt, and for a brief moment it was enough to make him forget about the reason why he was angry and upset in the first place. He opened his mouth, not sure of what he was going to say, but Hanzo beat him to it, his voice a gravelled whisper that Jesse had to strain to hear.

“Jesse, I…” Hanzo paused, a myriad of emotions darkening his eyes. “I am truly sorry for my words earlier. I did not mean to suggest anything untoward or untruthful, nor did I intend to cause you such distress.”

“Aw hell, darlin’”, Jesse responded thickly, his knot in his stomach tightening as just how vehemently upset Hanzo sounded with himself.

Closing the gap between them in three quick strides, Jesse immediately wrapped his arms around the archer and drew him into his chest. Hanzo went rigid, his frantic words being swallowed in the curve of Jesse’s throat.

“It was unacceptable of me to insult you in the way that I did, I…” Hanzo choked on a soft sob, and Jesse could feel his eyes beginning to burn as he wrapped his arms tighter around Hanzo, his metal hand coming to rest comfortingly on the back of Hanzo’s neck.

“I get it, darlin’, you were worried and angry, and you had every right to be. M’not saying that I appreciated it, mind you, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I ain’t done the same in the past.”

Hanzo went quiet, his hands trembling as they came up to grasp almost desperately at the back of Jesse’s shirt. The cowboy let his hand travel upwards into Hanzo’s hair, being careful not to let the dark strands get stuck between the joints of his fingers, and he felt the soft hum that Hanzo released as he pressed a gentle kiss to Hanzo’s temple. Jesse could feel the exhaustion crashing over him in waves, the archer’s weight leaning into him more and more.

“We can talk ‘bout this more in the mornin’, sweetheart. Right now, all I want is to be curled up with you in a comfy bed gettin’ some actual sleep.”

Jesse felt Hanzo’s nod against his neck, brushing butterfly kisses down the side of Hanzo’s cheek before reaching the corner of the archer’s mouth; Hanzo groaned before turning to chase Jesse’s affection, a barely there caress before Hanzo pressed in more firmly, sucking Jesse’s full bottom lip between his own as he let his hands skate down Jesse’s side to rest on the cowboy’s hips where they belonged. They broke apart tiredly, a faint glow finally returning to Hanzo’s eyes that made a swell of warmth rush up Jesse’s spine.

“You should probably go apologise to Ana tomorrow while you’re at it too, darlin’, and Lord knows you’re gonna need all the energy and help you can get with that…”

“…Fuck.”

A genuine, fond chuckle left Jesse as he pulled apart from Hanzo, reaching down to lace his fingers with the archer’s as he dragged them both towards the door. 

They'd be okay. Words could wait.


	3. Chapter Three: I Can Bench More Than You (Zarya)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3! What happens when Jesse bites off a little bit more than he can chew against Zarya?
> 
> As always, please make sure to leave any comments, prompts or reviews down below - they always give me motivation to write!
> 
> Enjoy everyone!

**_“I can bench more than you…”_ **

It had been said with utter derision and almost offense, the behemoth of a Russian staring down at the considerably smaller cowboy. The smirk on her face twisted into one of amusement when she saw that Jesse wasn’t standing down, a cocky grin curling his lips as he stood to his full height, hands resting nonchalantly on his hips.

“Not sayin’ you can’t darlin’, but there’s more to life than bein’ able to lift some heavy weights. Why, I could run rings ‘round ya and not even break a sweat…”

“I will show you no mercy!” Zarya growled out, and for a split second, Hanzo had been able to see the moment when Jesse finally realised he’d bitten off a little bit more than he could chew.

There was no doubt that Jesse was surprisingly strong and agile; countless times someone had taken a look at the gunslinger and underestimated him, and it was usually the last thing they did before they got a bullet between the eyes. He may not have seemed like he was built for stealth, but beneath the spurs and the layers was someone who’d spent their whole life training to be as deadly and efficient as humanely possible.

Hanzo would’ve been lying if he didn’t admit just how much that hidden flexibility and sheer core strength, the thickness of Jesse’s thighs, the hard power wrapped in tanned, scarred skin that could be so devastatingly gentle and so deliberately brutal turned him on.

It almost attracted him to the cowboy as much as Jesse’s raspy drawl, his quick mind, the spark in his eyes had. Almost as much as the unspoken vulnerability and the soft, almost scared touches that belied the jokes and the mask of southern hospitality Jesse presented to the world.

Genji had found it fucking hilarious getting under Hanzo’s skin, teasing him with his affections and feelings towards the cowboy.

It backfired rather impressively on his brother when he’d ‘accidentally’ caught them at their usual drinking spot above the sky gallery. Clothes askew as Hanzo had pinned down Jesse, his skilled fingers firmly stroking the cowboy through his boxers as they’d ground their hips together, Jesse’s head tilted back and his throat exposed to the bites and sucked kisses that bruised his skin. Hanzo had been so intent on drawing out those husky moans, his fingers tangled into Jesse’s hair as he’d sped up his hand on Jesse’s cock that he hadn’t even noticed Genji there.

Jesse had, however, and the weeks of sly comments and innuendos thrown Genji’s way had been more than worth the hassle Genji had put Hanzo through.

Hanzo had taken a deep sigh to drag his mind back to the scene that was occurring in front of him at the time. Zarya hadn’t been at the watchpoint all that long, a recent arrival from the Siberian front. Hanzo had had very few words with her, a polite nod of the head in greeting when their paths crossed in the corridor but nothing substantial; Jesse, on the other hand, had struck up a rather unusual friendship with the Russian.

Hanzo shouldn’t have been surprised – if anyone could bring someone out of their shell and make them feel welcome, it was Jesse McCree.

Jesse and Zarya had been in the training rooms on this occasion, Jesse working on his cardio per orders of Angela – _“I swear, Jesse, if you don’t stop smoking those cigarettes and start taking care of yourself better, not even I will be able to patch you up!”_ – and Zarya lifting some rather scary looking weights in the corner. Hanzo had just finished his stretches and was debating going to the canteen for some green tea when he had seen Jesse bring the treadmill to a stop, walking on slightly shaky legs towards Zarya.

Hanzo had only heard the very end of the conversation, and it was a challenge not to facepalm at Jesse’s misplaced confidence.

Jesse had a habit of picking competitions with the wrong individuals – he’d once claimed back when Hanzo had first arrived in Gibraltar that the archer couldn’t be anywhere near as handy with a bow as he was with Peacekeeper, and the chaos that had ensued was _legendary_ – but even Hanzo knew that trying to out-stamina and out-strength a woman who looked like she could tear his head off his shoulders with her bare hands was only going to end in disaster.

“I don’t much like losin’, you best be ready to run for the hills…”

Unfortunately for Jesse, if the sounds he was currently making now were any indication, he’d lost and then some. Hanzo had had to all but carry the cowboy back, the sounds of Zarya’s booming laughter echoing through the corridors as Jesse hissed and winced his way back through the corridors to their shared quarters.

“Fuck darlin’, be careful”, Jesse grunted as Hanzo firmly massaged along the line of his shoulder blade, fingers digging into the base of Jesse’s neck with as much pressure as the cowboy could handle.

Once Hanzo had all but dragged the now sulking cowboy back to their quarters, he’d helped him shimmy out of his jeans and shirt, the clothes abandoned on the floor next to where Jesse had kicked off his boots and thrown his hat before Jesse had thrown himself down on the bed.

Hanzo had smirked at the scene before him, stripping himself down to his underwear before straddling the taller man’s back, his skilled fingers immediately finding their place at Jesse’s shoulders to work at the aching and tight muscles.

Leaning forward, Hanzo brushed a light kiss to the back of Jesse’s ear before nipping the lobe between his teeth; he could feel the way that Jesse shivered beneath him, his back arching just slightly as he let out a gasp.

“Now you’re just playin’ dirty, sweetheart.”

Hanzo gave a crooked smile, nuzzling his cheek against Jesse’s hair. His hands never stopped touching the sweat-dampened skin beneath his palms; he could feel the tension flood out of Jesse’s body as he worked out a particularly hard knot underneath his left shoulder, making sure to massage the seam where metal met flesh which had become warm and slightly swollen.

“You were the one who goaded Zarya into competition, Jesse. I feel little sympathy for you.”

“And yet…” Jesse gave a breathy sigh as Hanzo’s fingers stroked delicately down his spine. “You’re on top of me right now.”

Hanzo hummed.

“Only because I do not wish to listen to you complain all night about being in pain. If you would rather that I stopped and you learnt your lesson the hard way…”

Hanzo’s tone was light and teasing; he gave out a sharp bark of laughter when Jesse started grumbling beneath him – “ _Don’t you fuckin’ stop touching me ya cruel bastard”_ – and couldn’t hold back the smile that curled his lips when Jesse relaxed under his hands, whining in just the right way that he knew Hanzo wouldn’t be able to resist.

“It’s not my fault that she’s got some inhuman body-building shit goin’ on, how was I supposed to know?”

Hanzo merely raised an eyebrow at that.

“As much as I enjoy your competitive spirit, my love, I would much rather you not end up under Angela’s care because of a foolish choice on your behalf.”

Hanzo could see the way that Jesse visibly melted at the term of affection, and it made a swell of warmth tighten his chest as he leaned down to brush more gentle kisses through Jesse’s hair and down the curve of his throat. Jesse gave another full body shudder, his hips giving an aborted grind against the bed covers before Jesse could stop himself.

“God dammit sweet pea, I’ll behave, I promise ya…”

There was a thread of heat and suggestion in Jesse’s tone as the pinned man ground his hips down against the bed again, a flush dusting his cheeks as he turned his head to look at Hanzo; his eyes were dark and pleading, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth.

Hanzo gave a groan, a wicked thought crossing his mind as he breathed hot and heavy into Jesse’s ear.

“Really? Now that sounds like a competition to me…”


	4. Chapter Four: I'm So Scared (Pharah)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This should've gone up yesterday but I was dealing with laptop issues :(
> 
> I absolutely adore the relationship between Pharah and McCree - they are essentially brother and sister at this point, and I'm really glad that I got to explore that a bit more here.
> 
> As always, please leave a review, comment or idea down below! It's really motivating :)
> 
> Enjoy guys!

Fareeha had been eating dinner in Angela’s office when the call had come over the comms that the Dorado team was inbound. There hadn’t been any mention of injuries or medical assistance needed, Angela joking warmly that if the team continued to follow her advice then she’d be redundant soon enough, and they’d both had time to finish their food before heading down to the docking bay.

It had been a hive of noise when the jet had landed. It had been a rather long and complex mission, requiring more feet on the ground than usual, and even Fareeha had to admit it was getting way too quiet around the watchpoint; it was nice for it to be filled with some life again.

Hana and Lucio raced down the ramp first, presumably on their way to raid the kitchen for some proper food, Lena not far behind them. Mei and Zarya were next, followed by the bombastic laughter of Reinhardt as he recounted a joke to Torbjorn. Jack was busy talking to Winston about logistics and mission objectives, leaving only two behind.

This was strange enough by itself – normally Jesse was one of the first off the jet, bringing with him friendly words of greeting and even friendlier hugs before disappearing off to the showers. Hanzo, for want of a better way to describe it, was normally stuck to his side like glue, the two men having become inseparable recently.

Angela had raised an eyebrow when Hanzo finally emerged minus a cowboy. It was an extremely strange sight. Even stranger was the subtle look of dejection and confusion that flashed through his eyes for a brief moment before his mask slipped back into place. He gave a polite, if somewhat stiff, nod to the two women before shrugging his bow back onto his shoulder and walking off without a word.

Fareeha and Angela had both shared a look of concern, neither having too long to consider what could possibly have happened before Jesse finally appeared at the top of ramp. He looked startled at their presence before plastering on his trademark grin, but it was immediately obvious that this was only for show.

Jesse’s shoulders were slumped, his eyes dull as he brushed back the hair from his face. He looked as if he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, something that Angela hadn’t seen in him since he was a scrap of a boy dragged to her office by Reyes.

Before either of them could say anything, he’d disappeared almost without a trace; neither of them needed to be an expert to know where the cowboy would inevitably end up though, and after sharing a quick kiss, Angela’s lilting tones belied with doubt and worry – “ _I’m sure he’s okay_ ” – Fareeha had headed off in the direction of Jesse’s usual hiding spot: one of the balconies just off the sky gallery were he’d normally smoke and drink for a bit.

She wasn’t sure what she’d find there. It was very rarely that Jesse got into one of these moods – especially since a certain archer had made his home at the watchpoint – but Jesse could be unpredictable. She’d carried him back drunk to his quarters almost as many times as Jesse had wound up crying on her shoulder, and she had mentally prepared herself for either eventuality.

Opening the door to the balcony, a grim frown had crossed her face; braced against the railings, a cigarillo hanging unlit from his lips, was Jesse. He had made no indication that he knew of Fareeha’s presence except for the slight raising of his shoulders, his back tensing as the younger woman had approached.

“Bit cold out here, don’t you think?”

“T’s fine,” Jesse had breathed out absently, even though Fareeha could see the goose bumps rising all over his exposed flesh.

“Don’t lie to me, cowboy. If you don’t wanna tell me, I’ll just go and ask Han-"

“No!”

Jesse rounded on her, his eyes wide in desperation and panic as he grabbed her arm firmly. So, Jesse’s mood was to do with Hanzo then, Fareeha thought, fleeting visions of violence crossing her mind before realising that Jesse was doing that thing again – he was curling in on himself, his bottom lip sucked between teeth and his eyes firmly fixed on the ground at Fareeha’s feet.

“Jesse, what happened? Did Hanzo do something?” No change in body language, Fareeha pressed on in the same way you might address a skittish animal. “Did _you_ do something?”

Again, nothing, but Fareeha could tell that Jesse was hiding something. They’d grown up practically siblings after all.

“Jesse, I can’t help unless you tell me what the problem is, because I will go talk to Hanzo if I need to. Now, stop being stubborn and admit what’s eating you.”

Jesse gave a watery sigh, leaning into Fareeha’s chest as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. She could feel the shiver running down his spine, something mumbled against her shoulder.

“Didn’t catch that, Jesse.”

Jesse had gone tense again, swallowing down the lump that Fareeha could feel stuck in his throat before giving a dejected sigh.

“I said, I think I’m in love with Hanzo.”

It had been a good few minutes since Jesse had divulged the information, a few minutes of complete silence on Fareeha’s end as she processed what she’d just heard, before Jesse pulled himself out of her embrace, turning to face the ocean again.

“I’m warnin’ ya Fareeha, if you’re even thinkin’ of tellin’ him…”

_**“I’m so scared.”** _

The flat, sarcastic quip was enough to make Jesse’s hand clench around the railing before he took a deep breath. He wasn’t even looking at his company, his eyes fixed on some far away spot in the horizon as the gentle sea breeze wrapped around him. Only the sounds of the waves crashing against the cliffs beneath them broke the deafening silence.

Fareeha would’ve been lying if she said that she’d been surprised by Jesse’s admission – it had been obvious from the second Hanzo had arrived at the watchpoint that there was something unique and special about their friendship. Jesse had a way of getting under people’s skins and wriggling his way into their affections, whereas Hanzo had slowly but surely been melting away his icy mask to one that was more open and affable. It was a sight to behold, that was for sure, and many times Fareeha and Angela had joked about the two of them being in a secret relationship.

It was only supposed to be a joke though.

Now though, as watched the cowboy with a sense of pain and sympathy in her eyes, it didn’t feel like it was funny anymore.

Jesse didn’t just give his heart to anyone. He was friendly and supportive and game for a laugh, but he didn’t admit to love. Love was a weakness, something that could be used against you.

Reyes had twisted that so many years ago, back when Jesse was young and naïve and worshipped the ground the commander walked on.

Genji had shared a moment of sorrow with him so many years ago, back when they were both angry and hurting and realised that they valued their friendship more than any potential fling.

And now, Jesse was obviously worried about what Hanzo would do with these most precious and vulnerable of gifts.

Fareeha gave a sigh, grabbing the edge of Jesse’s serape and pulling it up around his shoulders.

“I really think you need to talk to Hanzo.”

Jesse gave a bitter snort, still refusing to look in Fareeha’s direction; his eyes were shining bright with unshed tears.

“And say what, huh? ‘Oh hey Hanzo, d’ya fancy going down to do some target practice later and oh, by the way, I love every single fuckin’ thing about you so did ya wanna go for dinner too? Maybe snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie? Just sit next to me ‘cause even just being around you makes me feel like a better person?’ Yeah, I’m sure that’d go down mighty fine!”

“So that has been the reason for your distance the last two weeks.”

Neither Jesse or Fareeha had even heard the door to the balcony open, let alone Hanzo standing a few feet behind them, and the sound of his voice startled them both. Fareeha whipped her head around quick to face their interloper, whereas Jesse looked like he was ready to throw himself over the edge and onto the rocks below if the tension in his arms was anything to go by.

Seemingly unperturbed, Hanzo took a couple of small steps forward, coming to a stop by Jesse’s side as he too leant forward against the railings. He’d obviously gone down to the training range to spar, his usual attire now replaced with a simple t-shirt and joggers and his hair pulled up into a messy bun.

Jesse refused to look at him, instead catching Fareeha’s gaze out of the corner of his eyes and begging silently with her.

“I simply believed that it was because of some stress or illness that you had been avoiding my person since the mission began. I was not aware that I had been causing you emotional distress.”

Hanzo’s voice dropped into a rough whisper as he edged closer to Jesse.

“I was afraid that I had done something to upset you. I… I missed your presence and friendship, more than I believed possible.”

Hanzo’s fingers were brushing against Jesse’s on the railing, and Fareeha watched with bated breath. She was half expecting Jesse to turn around and to punch the archer in the face in a fit of panic, but instead she stood in silence as Hanzo’s hand crept nervously to rest on top of Jesse’s.

“Now I realise that it is because you have… feelings.”

Jesse snatched his hand out from beneath Hanzo’s, turning to face him; there was an anger and a plea in his eyes, a broken tone to his normally honeyed words that made Fareeha’s chest hurt.

“Well, there ya go, now you know! I have feelings for ya and there ain’t a damn thing either of us can do ‘bout it, so spare me. I can’t turn ‘em off, I’ve tried! Now leave me the fuck in peace.”

As Jesse turned to stalk towards the door, the unlit cigarillo in his mouth falling forgotten to the ground, Fareeha and Hanzo’s eyes met for a split second before Hanzo grabbed Jesse by the back of shirt. She watched as Hanzo spun Jesse around and crowded him bodily against the wall, the archer’s hands coming up for frame either side of Jesse’s flushed face.

Fareeha felt herself reaching forward, ready to grab Hanzo by the back of the neck and throw him to the side, but before she could do anything, Hanzo leaned forward, pressing a firm but gentle kiss to Jesse’s lips.

“You foolish cowboy,” Hanzo breathed against Jesse’s mouth, his fingers coming up to brush through the loose strands of Jesse’s hair as Jesse’s hands instinctively rested on Hanzo’s hips.

“You are not the only one with feelings.”

Another kiss, more deliberate this time. Hanzo pulled back once more to rest his forehead against Jesse’s, and Fareeha could see the mixture of shock, hunger, and fear in Jesse’s eyes.

“Please Hanzo, don’t joke with me ‘bout this, I can’t take it.”

“Who said anything about a joke?” Hanzo retorted, cupping Jesse’s cheek in his palm as he let his other hand linger on Jesse’s side. “I have been experiencing these feelings for a while now, but I did not wish to say anything that would make you uncomfortable. I value your companionship.”

Hanzo gave another soft kiss. “And I value you.”

Fareeha could see Jesse’s hands shaking as he curled them round the back of Hanzo’s neck, finally reciprocating Hanzo’s affection as they met in the middle; the sound of swallowed gasps and hums were unmistakable. Hanzo was murmuring something against the cowboy’s lips, Jesse melting underneath Hanzo’s hands.

Fareeha cleared her throat awkwardly, both men turning to look at her with a mixture of annoyance (Hanzo) and embarrassment (Jesse).

“I shall bid you both good evening. Maybe find somewhere a little less public, perhaps? Just don’t make too much noise, if I get woken up there’ll be hell to pay.”

Fareeha didn’t think it would even be possible for Jesse to go redder than he already was, a ball of warmth and excitement settling low in her gut as she gave both men a nod. Even as she was walking away, she could hear Hanzo laughing softly at the groan Jesse gave, and a smile crossed her face as she re-entered the watchpoint.

Angela definitely needed to hear about this.


	5. Day Five: No Snowflake Ever Falls in the Wrong Place (Zenyatta)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And a second one for you all today!
> 
> As always, leave a comment, review or prompt below!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :)

The winds were howling, the thrash of rain hitting the windows enough to tell that there was a storm on its way. If Hanzo was to get poetic about it, he’d have been certain that the current climate was influenced by the spirits that usually roared beneath his skin.

But tonight, those dragons were quiet. It was a shame that Hanzo’s mind was not, but he was used to nights like this, where hours were lost staring at a blank ceiling and remembering things.

Sometimes, those memories were vicious and brutal – Genji at his feet begging for mercy as he raised his blade high, the cry of orphaned children whose parents Hanzo hadn’t been able to get to fast enough. Sometimes they weren’t memories, but fears of the unknown yet to come – Winston telling him to leave, his team mates secretly hating him for what he did in his past, Jesse telling him that he didn’t love him anymore…

It was always that last ever-present dream that made a lump come to Hanzo’s throat. That was the one that scared him more than any other terror, real or imagined, that his mind could conjure up.

Tonight though, there was no haunting memories or fears for the future. It was merely the sound of the storm whistling around them that kept him conscious; years on the run meant that he would wake at even the slightest of noises.

A flash of lightning lit up the room, casting out the shadows, and Hanzo’s gaze was drawn to the sleeping man beside him, a gentle smile gracing the archer’s lips.

When he’d first come to Gibraltar – to Overwatch – nothing more than a bow on his back and a lifetime of regrets and broken relationships, there had been something about the enigmatic cowboy. He’d stayed at the back of the group, brim drawn down low over his eyes and his arms folded across his chest.

When Genji had introduced Hanzo and he’d seen the split second that the penny dropped and Jesse realised who was standing in front of him, Hanzo had been waiting for the punch to the face, the hostility and anger of finally meeting your best friend’s brother and killer.

Sure, there was a brief flash of incredulous distrust that flashed through Jesse’s eyes before he could rein it in, but Jesse just threw on a charming smile, touching the brim of his hat in a warm but firm ‘howdy’ that made Hanzo’s heart clench in his chest.

And that had been that.

A friendly greeting when they passed in the corridor became a clap of a hand on the shoulder and a crooked smile that made it hard for Hanzo to breathe. A stilted invitation for a cup of tea when they’d both passed each other in the training range during episodes of insomnia became drinks on the sky balcony after missions. Awkward moments of silence became times of genuine peace and comfort that Hanzo began to crave.

It had worried Hanzo to begin with. He wasn’t used to being in the same place for so long, let alone developing feelings for another person. He knew he couldn’t talk to Genji – Genji was Jesse’s best friend, and he was still the same incorrigible little shit that he had been when they were boys – so he went instead to the best option available.

Zenyatta had been delighted when Hanzo had asked to join them in their morning meditations when Genji had been out on a mission, and Hanzo instantly began to understand the positive influence the omnic monk had had on his wayward brother.

After a few hours of silence, Hanzo’s thoughts began to get the better of him; it felt strange to begin with, how every little concern and fear had trickled out of him almost without conscious effort as Zenyatta sat in silence.

“I am worried that eventually people will realise that I do not belong here, that I do not deserve to make amends.”

The omnic gave a thoughtful hum, their lights glowing bright under the morning sunrise.

“ _ **No snowflake ever falls in the wrong place.**_ Destiny has drawn you here for a purpose. It may feel easier to drift in the wind, but true self and happiness can only be appreciated when you let yourself pause and take solace in the rest of the snow around you.”

As always, Hanzo thought with a genuine warmth, Zenyatta’s advice was sound.

He’d turned over and considered the words, working himself between poles of sheer elation that Jesse would reciprocate and sheer devastation that the cowboy would not. He was ready to settle, and the thought that Jesse didn’t feel the same overwhelming desire and low burning affection was enough to make him nauseous.

Fortunately for them both, Jesse had been drifting for fair too long as well.

It had come to a head one evening, the sun setting over the distant horizon as they’d sat in companionable silence enjoying the others presence. Hanzo had been wracked with nerves when his hand crept along the ground to rest shakily over Jesse’s splayed fingers.

Even the softest brush of skin on skin was enough to make Hanzo’s stomach knot, but before he could pull away and claim some sort of mistake, Jesse’s hand had turned beneath his and laced their fingers together palm to palm. The cowboy had given a faint squeeze; finally raising his eyes from where they joined to Jesse’s face, Hanzo could see the blush on his cheeks, the uncertain flicker of doubt in his eyes.

Hanzo squeezed his hand back, neither of them saying anything as they’d watched the moon raise in the sky.

That had been months ago now, Hanzo thought absently as he turned to lay on his side, appreciating the view before him.

Jesse was so beautiful when he slept, his hair flopped around his head like a halo, his eyes flickering back and forth beneath his eyelids as he dreamt. He looked so young like this, with the stresses of the world melted away, so heartbreakingly vulnerable that Hanzo almost couldn’t stand it. It was at times like these that Hanzo couldn’t believe that Jesse loved him back, and Hanzo knew that he would treasure that gift for as long as it kept giving.

Giving a sigh as he felt the furnace like warmth of Jesse’s bare skin against his, Hanzo rested his head against Jesse’s chest. Even in sleep, Jesse’s arms immediately wrapped themselves around the archer, his flesh hand resting almost protectively against Hanzo’s hip as Jesse unconsciously sought out Hanzo.

Feeling Jesse stretch and rub against his head like a cat, his cheek buried against the soft inky strands as he murmured something under his breath before settling again, Hanzo gave a soft, tired smile as he let his eyes drift shut in the comfort of his cowboy.

As sleep claimed him, the first flakes of snow began to fall outside.


	6. Day Six: I'm Sorry! (Mei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a couple of days behind on account of laptop issues and depression kicking my ass, so I'll be releasing a double prompt over the weekend.
> 
> For now though, have some glorious smut!
> 
> As always, reviews, comments and prompts are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Enjoy everyone!

“Shush, my love, we would not want anyone to hear.”

Hanzo’s voice was wickedly sweet as he continued his thorough exploration of Jesse’s throat. Jesse’s head was thrown back against Hanzo’s shoulder as he gave an aborted moan, his eyes nearly black with arousal as Hanzo sucked another bruise into his skin.

“Fuck, please…”

A lustful grin curled the archers lips as he wound one hand tight into Jesse’s hair, the other deliberately trailed around the cowboy chest as he skated his fingers so painfully slow down his ribs and abdomen before reaching Jesse’s waist.

With a practiced ease, Hanzo began to undo Jesse’s belt and jeans, leaving them hanging open as he cupped Jesse’s growing hardness through his boxers. The result was instantaneous, a sinfully hot whine as Jesse ground back against Hanzo’s own erection.

“Already begging for me, my love? Why am I not surprised? You always have been a filthy whore for my cock.”

The almost inhuman noise that Jesse made as he visibly shivered in Hanzo’s grasp, his face flushed red, felt like a punch in the gut.

It hadn’t been that long ago where the idea of Hanzo even thinking those kinds of words, let alone actually saying them, would’ve been laughable. There was something though about Jesse that completely destroyed his brain to mouth filter, something violently exciting about how a few crooned words were enough to turn Jesse into an incomprehensible mess.

Jesse lowered all of his inhibitions, stripped away any awkwardness or fear about what Hanzo wanted from Jesse.

Hanzo wanted everything, and Jesse was more than willing to oblige.

There was a growing damp patch beneath his palm, and as he thumbed just under the ridge of Jesse’s cock, the cowboy choked on a gasp. Hanzo took a step back; he could see the desperate plea forming on Jesse’s kiss swollen lips. Smirking, Hanzo pulled his kyudo-gi off and dropped it on the floor next to where Jesse’s shirt had been discarded.

The hunger that crossed Jesse’s face was almost obscene, his mouth falling open in a silent prayer before he turned back to resume his previous position; palms against the wall, feet shoulder width apart as he arched his back, inviting more of Hanzo’s touch.

Hanzo wasn’t going to deny him.

It had been an intense few days, filled with frustration and numerous close calls. The mission had been a write-off almost from the start; leaked intelligence and false leads meant that the small team – Hanzo, Jesse, Jack and Angela – had been outnumbered and outgunned. At one point, Jesse had turned into a dark alley and into a shotgun pressed against his forehead.

If it wasn’t for one of Hanzo’s arrows barely scratching past his temple and into the throat of his wannabe assailant, the archer’s aim as deadly unerring as always, Jesse might not have made it back to the dropship.

Adrenaline pumping through their veins, it was almost impossible for them to keep their hands to themselves on the journey back; even though Jack and Angela knew about their relationship, they knew better than to do anything. Jack had almost thrown a fit when he’d caught them in the corridors, and they’d seen more than their fair share of disapproving looks from Angela when Jesse last visited Hanzo in the med bay and been caught fumbling around under the covers.

Instead, their hands had been locked in a death grip between them, Hanzo’s thumb stroking soft circles against Jesse’s wrist as Jesse had rested his head on the smaller man’s shoulder.

Now that the rush of energy was beginning to fade, both of them were beginning to realise just how much they needed the presence of the other to ground them. It was a reassurance and a promise that they weren’t going anywhere, that they were both still alive.

Jesse always seemed to take the drop back into reality much harder than Hanzo did, the cowboy getting caught up in the ‘what ifs’ and the imagined mistakes; it made him seem so vulnerable and unsure, his eyes clouded with uncertainty and doubt, and Hanzo could never stop the fiercely protective surge of love that spurred him into making everything better.

Maybe it was the dragon’s influence, or maybe it was just Jesse’s – Hanzo wasn’t particularly sure.

Regardless, the moment they had docked back at Gibraltar, Hanzo had forcibly dragged Jesse off the ship. Now that they were finally safe, the faded adrenaline and promises had manifested into a burning need for the other.

They’d tried to make it back to their quarters, they really had, but the surge of lust and want and the desperate need to touch had Hanzo pushing Jesse into the next empty room they could find; it was a small stock room, just enough light to see what they were doing. Not caring to lock the door behind them, he’d pinned Jesse to the wall and _ravaged_ him.

“Hanzo, come on, do something, please…”

Jesse’s voice was a harsh, gravelly whisper, the frantic arousal in his tone enough to make Hanzo’s head swim. Hanzo’s fingertips teased along the seam of Jesse’s lips, and as he bit down hard on the back of Jesse’s neck, he could feel Jesse’s muffled groan as he pushed two fingers into Jesse’s mouth, his other hand going back to continue his teasing caress of Jesse’s leaking cock.

“If you will not keep quiet, then I believe that this is the only solution to keep you quiet,” Hanzo breathed into Jesse’s ear as the cowboy sucked intently on the fingers stroking his tongue. “When we get back to our room, my love, I will give you something much more substantial to fill your mouth with…”

Hanzo felt more than heard Jesse’s hum of approval. Pulling Jesse’s jeans and boxers down his thick thighs to rest above his knees, Hanzo squeezed Jesse’s round ass, pulling the cowboy’s cheeks apart as gently ran both saliva-soaked fingers down the crease to rub across Jesse’s twitching entrance. Hanzo knew that spit wasn’t an acceptable substitute for proper lube but they had to make do; he knew Jesse was okay with a little bit of pain, but that didn’t stop Hanzo from taking his time to work his fingers into Jesse’s ass.

Jesse choked back a sob, his forehead slamming hard against the wall as he brought his metal hand up to his mouth to try and muffle the delicious noises Hanzo could hear escaping him. Hanzo’s digits continued to twist and stretch, seeking out the small patch of nerves that would make the burn even sweeter, and he knew that he found it when Jesse’s breath hitched suddenly, his entire body going rigid from the shock of pleasure.

“Jesus fucking Christ Hanzo, just fuck me already!”

Withdrawing his fingers, Hanzo pulled down his hakama and quickly fished out his erection from his boxers. It was almost pornographically indecent, his cock dripping with the evidence of his arousal – what Jesse does to him – and he had to bite back a groan as he spat in his palm and carefully stroked himself. Positioning his cock against Jesse’s hole, he gripped Jesse’s hips hard as he slowly pushed in; they both groaned as the head of Hanzo’s cock was suddenly swallowed.

Wild desire pounded through Hanzo’s skull as he continued sinking into Jesse’s tight heat, rubbing his thumbs soothingly against Jesse’s hipbones as he pressed soft, frantic kisses along the line of Jesse’s throat. Jesse could do nothing other than hiss in pained pleasure, his eyes glassy with lust, and they both shuddered when Hanzo was fully seated inside Jesse, Hanzo reaching around to wrap his fingers around-

“Aaaah!”

Jesse was way too far gone to be aware of anything other than Hanzo. Hanzo’s head immediately shot around to the source of the noise though, his nostrils flaring as he laid himself across Jesse to cover him from view. Hanzo was the only one who got to see Jesse this vulnerable and exposed, the dragon’s growling under his skin at the interloper.

Standing stock still in the now open door was Mei, her hands desperately flinging up to cover her eyes as if that would erase the sight before her from her memory.

“Oh my Gosh! **_I’m sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, sorry!_** I heard a noise and I got worried and I thought I should check it out and I’m sorry!”

“There is no need to apologise,” Hanzo intoned bluntly, his fingers brushing softly through Jesse’s hair. “I ask one favour, however.”

“Of course, whatever you want!”

Hanzo gave a wicked smirk.

“Lock the door behind you.”

Mei didn’t even respond before turning on her heel and bolting from the room as fast as she could, the sound of the lock clicking filling the loaded silence before Hanzo clamped his hand down on top of Jesse’s metal fingers, thrusting into the cowboy as hard and possessively as he could.

“I told you, my love, you need to be more quiet.”


	7. Day Seven: Violence is usually the answer (Roadhog)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this the going to be the first part of a three part mission fic prompt that will be posted this weekend - a little bit different from what I've already posted as part of this series, but I hope that you'll all enjoy it nonetheless! This part isn't quite as long as the others, but I'm hoping that the next two installments will more than make up for any disappointment :)
> 
> As always, feel free to leave any reviews, comments or prompts - they're all greatly appreciated!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It had been 2am when the alarms went off, signifying that the team needed to rally as fast as possible to the main conference room. Comms going off at that time of the morning were rarely a good sign – whatever shit was going down obviously couldn’t wait a few hours for a more awake response.

Jesse and Hanzo had been two of the last to arrive, both men with a grim expression on their faces. They’d both only just returned from a three week mission early that day; they were banged and bruised, muscles aching and heads pounding from the constant adrenaline and need to be alert. Hanzo’s left wrist was bandaged, a precaution after being knocked from his perch and onto the empty pavement two stories below; Jesse was sporting a particularly brutal black eye and a split lip after taking the butt of a pistol to his face during a brawl with some Los Muertos goons.

Being minor injuries – Hanzo had nothing broken and Jesse was lucky enough to escape without a concussion – there was no point in using any biotic emitters or Angela’s technology to heal, especially when supplies were currently running low.

They’d hoped that once they’d returned to the watchpoint that they’d be granted some time to rest and recover, but that was obviously now little more than a pipedream if the look on Winston and Morrison’s faces were any indication.

Winston cleared his throat, the murmur of noise immediately silencing as a dozen set of eyes focused on him.

“I apologise for the wake-up call but this is of dire importance. Earlier today, we received intelligence that Talon operatives had intercepted and taken a shipment of highly dangerous nuclear weapons, as well as capturing what is believed to be approximately 26 hostages. In the last hour, Overwatch and the UN have been contacted by Talon Council members. They have stated that they will release the captives and return the stolen hardware in exchange for $50,000,000, and that if they do not receive the amount in full within 48 hours, they will execute the hostages and detonate the arsenal, potentially endangering the lives of thousands of civilians.”

“Shit,” Jesse whistled lowly, “that’s a lot of money.”

Hanzo merely nodded, his eyes darting around the room as he leaned back against the wall, circling his wrists absently.

Tracer was the first to speak up, wiping her palm down her face. “So what the plan then? Surely we’re not just gonna give them all that cash – who knows what they’re trying to fund!”

Mei was the next to chime in. “But there are lives at stake!”

 _ **“Violence is usually the answer.”**_ At Roadhog’s suggestion, a sudden explosion of arguments filled the small space, only quietening down when Morrison slammed his hand down hard on the table in front of him.

Attention now fully on him, Morrison pulled himself to his full height, daring anyone to oppose what he was about to say.

“We are not going to negotiate with terrorists, that’s not how we do things. With the backing of the UN, we have been authorised to send in a strike team to liberate the hostages and take down the Talon agents before they can do any further harm.”

Morrison paused for a brief moment before picking up what looked to be a hefty mission report from the desk.

“We will be comprised of two strike teams: strike team alpha and strike team beta. Alpha will be responsible for finding the nuclear weapons and getting them out of Talon’s hands by any means necessary; Beta will be infiltrating Talon’s base of operations and liberating the hostages with as few casualties as possible. Alpha: Reinhardt, Hanzo, D.Va, Torbjorn, Junkrat, Roadhog, Lucio, led by myself. Beta: Genji, Tracer, Mercy, Ana, led by McCree.”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

The disbelief in Jesse’s voice was palpable as he raised an eyebrow at Morrison, not a single other person in the room willing to make a sound as Jesse pushed himself off the wall, running a hand roughly through his hair.

“You heard me, McCree,” Morrison spat out, his patience obviously wearing thin. “Freeing those hostages requires stealth and nerves of steel. You're one of the only people I know with the skills to lead and successfully pull off this kind of mission.”

“You mean a Blackwatch kinda mission, Jack?”

Jesse’s words were venomous, his hand clenching at his side as he took a step closer to Morrison. Hanzo reached forward to rest his palm gently against Jesse’s neck, hoping that it would be enough to ground the obviously upset and wound up cowboy.

“If that’s what you want to call it, Jesse…” Morrison trailed off as he turned back to the rest of the room. “All operatives to report to the loading bay at approximately 0400 hours, dismissed.”

Jesse was absolutely seething, his eyes flashing with a visceral pain as Hanzo waited until the room was nearly empty before stepping forward and wrapping his arms protectively around Jesse’s waist, brushing a soft kiss to Jesse’s temple.

“Breathe, my love. I am also wary of these arrangements and their implications, but there is very little we can do now.”

Jesse slumped back against Hanzo’s solid chest, heaving a deep sigh.

“I finally thought those days were behind me, y’know? Jack knows as good as anyone how Blackwatch operated, the shit we did to fulfil our missions – fact he’s tryin’ to force my hand, your brother’s hand…”

“I know,” Hanzo replied understandingly, stroking his fingers down the length of Jesse’s arms as he bathed Jesse’s throat in more butterfly kisses; he smiled faintly when the anger began to drain out of the cowboy, Jesse’s head thrown back against Hanzo’s shoulder as he gave a frustrated groan.

“Guess we can’t leave the past well enough alone anymore.”

Hanzo hummed, lacing their hands together and giving a firm squeeze that Jesse instantly reciprocated. “I guess not, but we have no time to dwell on this now, not with the mission at hand.”

Jesse turned in Hanzo’s arms, his hands grasping Hanzo’s hips before he pressed his lips to the archer’s; Hanzo could still taste the metallic tang of blood in Jesse’s mouth as they reluctantly pulled apart.

“No rest for the wicked,” Jesse drawled with a small smile.


	8. Chapter Eight: And they say chivalry is dead! (Doomfist)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this is the second part of a three parter - I would recommend checking out yesterday's chapter to stay up to date with everyone, but I guess it could be read as a standalone. 
> 
> Warnings for this part - implied/referenced torture, kidnapping, graphic violence.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave a comment, review or prompt - all greatly appreciated!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It had taken what felt like hours for the throbbing pain in his skull to recede enough for him to open his eyes; he blinked out the blurriness in his vision, only for Hanzo to realise he was royally fucked.

The mission itself had gone smoothly, his strike team able to intercept the stolen nuclear hardware and deactivate it with the help of Torbjorn and Junkrat’s extensive knowledge of explosives.

The problem had come when Morrison called for the team to retreat back to the dropship so that they could liaise with strike team beta, and what felt like the whole of Talon had collapsed in on their position.

In the haze of smoke and gunfire, pulse grenades and missiles, Hanzo had made a critical mistake.

He’d jumped down from the upper rafters of the warehouse where he’d been positioned. He’d surrendered the high ground to better flank and take out a small group of gunmen the others hadn’t spotted, but in doing so he’d left himself vulnerable.

That wasn’t to say that Hanzo didn’t know how to fight at close quarters, using his arrows like knives as he embedded them into the throats of two of the Talon agents before knocking another off their feet with a sweep of Stormbow.

The problem was that he was heavily outnumbered, his adrenaline fuelled body already waning from the physical exhaustion he had been put through from the previous mission that he hadn’t had a chance to rest from.

His strikes became sloppy, his focus divided, and all it took was one hard shot in the face from the butt of an assault rifle to take him out.

Now, as Hanzo became more aware of his surroundings, he could feel the heavy swelling around the bridge of his nose, the itch of dried blood on his lips; otherwise, he seemed relatively intact with the exception of his previously injured wrist throbbing against the tight ropes that tied both his hands behind his back.

He was sat upright in a chair that had been bolted to the ground, his ankles shackled to the legs and his arms wrenched behind him. He was stripped down to his waist, his extra weapons nowhere to be found.

He gave a brief, painful snort of derision.

At least whoever had captured him was apparently competent at their jobs; there was nothing worse than being held hostage by a bunch of amateurs.

The room itself was bare – no windows, only one door that looked like it locked from the outside, nothing to give Hanzo any kind of indication as to where he was or even what time of day it was. It had been early afternoon when the call to retreat was made; Hanzo didn’t even know if it was the same day anymore.

Letting his eyes slip shut, Hanzo’s head fell forward until his chin rested against his chest. He could feel the dragons stirring angrily underneath his skin, but there was nothing he could do to soothe them like this.

Hanzo must have dozed off, because he was suddenly awoken by the sound of metal scrapping against concrete, wincing at the light that streamed in through the opening door.

“Hanzo Shimada, now this is a pleasant surprise.”

Hanzo froze; he didn’t even need to lift his head to know who his company was.

“Doomfist.”

Hanzo spat out the name with as much vitriol as he could muster, drawing himself up as straight as he could in his chair to stare the imposing figure before him in the eyes; he refused to show even the slightest bit of weakness in front of the Talon leader, channelling his yakuza heritage.

“Please, Hanzo, call me Akande,” Doomfist replied, taking a step towards the bound archer as his henchmen lurked ominously at the door. “I am glad to see that my people did not rough you up too badly.”

“Oh,” Hanzo spat out sarcastically, “how lucky indeed. Is this how you treat all of your captives?”

Doomfist’s eyes sharpened with malevolent intent as he roughly grabbed Hanzo’s chin in his palm, squeezing his fingertips into Hanzo’s jaw.

“Only those with potential.”

Hanzo tried not to roll his eyes, acutely aware of just how close Doomfist’s massive fingers were to his neck.

“As I have told the many people you have sent my way, I have zero interest in joining with the likes of Talon. There is nothing you could say or do to convince me otherwise – I made my decision a long time ago.”

Doomfist laughed. It was one of the most unnerving sounds Hanzo had ever heard in his life.

“Don’t be so sure about that Hanzo.”

Hanzo’s eyes were almost black as he bared his teeth viciously, watching as Doomfist turned and pointed at his two henchmen.

“Bring him in. Do _not_ be gentle.”

The malicious smirk on Doomfist’s lips was pure evil, a sycophantic chuckle that made Hanzo’s spine tingle. Before Hanzo could interpret what Doomfist had said though, the henchmen had returned, dragging between them a barely conscious figure that they threw on the floor at Hanzo and Doomfist’s feet.

Despite the lack of hat or serape, the absence of spurs, Hanzo would recognise the beaten and bloodied man anywhere.

“ _Jesse_ ,” Hanzo breathed out desperately.

A crooked grin curled Doomfist’s lips as he tangled his fingers into Jesse’s messy hair, forcibly pulling the cowboy up onto his knees with an agonised hiss that felt like a punch to the gut.

Whereas Hanzo had been treated almost with care, the same could not be said for Jesse; Hanzo could instantly tell he was in a bad way. His face was covered in cuts and violent bruises, a deep gash bleeding sluggishly at his temple. His chest and ribs were the same proliferation of blacks and purples, bones obviously broken if the wheeze in Jesse’s laboured breaths were anything to go by.

His prosthetic was sparking dangerously, wires ripped out and the heavy metal curled uselessly into Jesse’s stomach; even in the relative darkness of the room, Hanzo could see the burn marks and blackened bundles of nerves and veins that were creeping up Jesse’s stump and across his collarbone. The fuckers knew that leaving Jesse to deal with the crippling neural feedback would be more effective than simply taking his arm off him.

Even worse than that though, Hanzo noted worriedly, was the obvious bullet wound just above Jesse’s right elbow, the site a mass of blood and ruptured muscle and shards of bone that someone had obviously carelessly packed with dirty rags.

Hanzo could see though the second that Jesse realised who was in front of him, the cowboy’s eyes blazing with fury as he began to struggle fiercely.

“You fuckin’ son of a bitch!” The words were slurred as Jesse spat the blood from his mouth.

Doomfist sighed before wrenching Jesse’s head further back; the pained whines and whimpers didn’t seem right coming from Jesse, and a flicker of fear began to creep up Hanzo’s spine.

“You see Hanzo, your _friend_ Jesse here,” there was something disgustingly lewd about the way Doomfist drawled out that term, and it made Hanzo feel sick.

“He definitely has his uses. After all, Jesse McCree basically wrote the Blackwatch playbook, the _Talon_ playbook. His knowledge is invaluable.”

“His person though?” Hanzo bit his lip hard to stop himself reacting when Doomfist threw Jesse to the ground like a ragdoll, pining him to the floor with a heavy boot on the back of his neck as an unsettling crack echoed around the room.

“Disposable. And as you already know, we have ways and means of getting our hands on the information inside his head…”

The threat lingered in the air, Hanzo’s face blanching.

Torture. Brainwashing. Reconditioning.

“Unless of course, Hanzo, you decide to take us up on our offer. Join us, Hanzo, and your _partner_ will be spared.”

“Refuse?” Doomfist shrugged, and Hanzo could feel his heart clenching in his chest at the low scream of pain Jesse gave out when the behemoth of a man lifted his boot from Jesse’s neck, only to drive the toe of it into the mangled mess of Jesse’s elbow. “You will watch him die. Then, you will join us whether you like it or not. The choice is yours, Hanzo, make the right decision.”

Hanzo felt like he couldn’t breathe as he watched Jesse wriggle fruitlessly beneath Doomfist. There were tears streaking the cowboy’s face, mixing with the blood that continued to pool on the dirty ground beneath him. Jesse’s energy was obviously running low, his skin pale and clammy as he twisted his head to meet Hanzo’s eyes.

Time seemed to stop, Hanzo feeling his mask beginning to crumble. He swallowed down the nausea rising in his throat. Jesse seemed to almost be calm, but his bloodshot eyes were flashing with a myriad of emotions that Hanzo couldn’t quite put his finger to.

Jesse finally stopped on one, and Hanzo felt his heart break. Acceptance.

“Do…” Jesse gasped, his breathing shallow. “Do what you want to me, I’m not scared to die. But don’t you dare hurt him.”

Doomfist laughed.

_**“And they say chivalry is dead.”** _

Doomfist dragged Jesse off the ground and back onto his knees, the cowboy listing dangerously. Hanzo watched in horrified silence as Doomfist turned to one of the henchmen and grabbed a gun, placing the muzzle to Jesse’s temple.

Jesse sighed as deep as he could, his eyes meeting Hanzo’s. Jesse’s lips were moving, no sound falling from them.

_I love you._

Hanzo couldn’t stop the tears overflowing, his dragons weeping with rage and despair.

_I love you too._

Doomfist cocked the safety, his finger curled around the trigger.

“Any last words to your beloved?”

Hanzo was so focused on the scene in front of him that he very nearly missed the faint glow of green lights that emerged from the shadows of the corridor.

Nearly.

Hanzo couldn’t help the almost delirious laughter that spilled from him as he tossed his head back, the weight in his chest instantly lifting for a precious few moments.

Doomfist didn’t move an inch, but the confusion and anger on his face was tangible.

“What is so-“

“Jesse, floor!”

Jesse was barely conscious but still followed the frantic order from Hanzo with what was left of his energy as Doomfist turned to immediately be greeted by the most beautiful sight that Hanzo had seen in a long time.

Genji.

More specifically, Genji and his ethereal spirit dragon at his back.

And both were _pissed_.

And as Genji unsheathed his blade, all hell broke loose.

Talon agents seemed to swarm the room, armed with weapons, but they were no match for the cyborg. Somewhere in amongst all of the chaos, Doomfist had fled; Hanzo would’ve literally been spitting bullets if it wasn’t for the satisfaction of knowing that Genji had appeared in the nick of time.

As the last of the unfortunate Talon agents fell, Genji heaved a deep sigh before immediately dropping to his knees before Jesse.

“Hanzo!”

Hanzo’s head whipped back to the door, backup finally arriving in the form of Angela and Morrison. Even the normally calm medic was covered in blood that was not her own, her small blaster held firmly between her lightly trembling hands; Morrison’s pulse rifle smoking over his shoulder.

Angela was instantly at Jesse’s side, rolling the now unresponsive cowboy onto his back as she barked orders at Genji; Morrison grabbed a knife from his jacket and used it to cut through the ropes that tied Hanzo’s hands together, the archer immediately rubbing the circulation back into his wrists with a soft hiss.

“How did you know we were here?”

“Don’t worry about that for now,” Morrison replied gruffly, concern colouring his tone as he managed to break open the shackles around Hanzo’s ankles.

“It’s time to take you and Jesse home.”


	9. Chapter Nine: I have my eye on you (Mercy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final part of the three part mission fic prompt! As always, it's a good idea to check out the last two chapters to get an idea of the context, but you could probably get away without having to!
> 
> This also has an absolute ton of Mercy lines in because they all fit into the story so well and I struggled to narrow it down, so see how many you can spot!
> 
> As always, reviews, comments and prompts are more than welcome and gratefully appreciated!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

When Jesse awoke the first time, the agonising presence of hurt and nausea really made him wish he hadn’t.

The cacophony of noise was ear splitting, the world moving dangerously off kilter as he blacked out for a second. He couldn’t move any part of his body, blistering heat searing through him when he tried to sit himself up.

Immediately, several sets of hands were on him, pushing him back down as he groaned at the heaviness crushing his chest.

The smell of blood was everywhere, and Jesse could feel himself retching at the taste.

Blinking back the tears clouding his vision, Jesse recognised the ceiling above him; he was in the dropship. His skin was clammy, and he started shaking uncontrollably through the waves of pain that claimed him; he knew things were bad.

A gentle set of hands firmly righted his head, brushing soothingly against his temples; it took a few moments for Jesse to remember who they belonged to, but as his eyes met the terrified gaze of the archer above him, Jesse couldn’t help the weak smile that curled his lips.

“H-H-Han?”

Even saying those scarce few letters was enough to leave Jesse struggling to breathe, the tightness in his chest unbearable as he whimpered. Hanzo leaned over him, pressing their foreheads together as he covered Jesse’s ears with trembling palms, almost as if he could block out the world.

“Hush, Jesse, you are safe now, no one is going to hurt you…”

Jesse vaguely felt pressure against his elbow, the guiltiest whisper of “I’m sorry” before a blood-curling scream left the cowboy and he passed into unconsciousness again.

\-----------------

The second time Jesse woke up, the sterile smell and rhythmic beeping instantly made him sigh.

Medical bay.

He could feel the gentle warmth of a biotic field on the table beside him, the itchiness of plasters and stitches, of dried blood and dirt caked sweat that stuck uncomfortably to him. The haziness that told Jesse Angela had given him the good stuff.

At least it was easier to breathe now, the mind-numbing pain now lessened to a manageable ache.

He went to push himself up slightly before pausing abruptly.

His stump was wrapped in burn film, the wound raw and tender like he’d put his arm into a meat grinder; even the metal connector port had been removed, and it was an extremely disconcerting feeling. His other arm didn’t look much better, thick bandages wrapped tight around his elbow and black bruising creeping up his bicep. He tried to move his fingers, barely suppressing a whine at the extensive burning sensation that lit up his entire right side.

“You know, you really should take better care of yourself.”

Jesse couldn’t help the relieved, almost hysterical chuckle that left his lips as he dropped his head back down onto the pillow.

“Well, I always have faith that you can patch me up, doc.”

Angela was silent, and Jesse could feel the mood suddenly turn serious.

“Almost couldn’t this time, Jesse.”

The words were breathed out softly, and Jesse could feel the knot in his stomach growing as Angela finally moved from her hovering position by the door to stand next to Jesse’s bedside, reading the various numbers on the machines along the back wall.

“You were lucky that Genji led us to you and Hanzo when he did.”

Jesse swallowed around the sticky lump in his throat, his gaze following Angela tiredly around the room as she continued fiddling with various pieces of equipment.

“How bad we lookin’, Angie?”

Angela gave a sigh as she replaced the biotic field with a fresh one, the rush of warmth instantaneous as Jesse could feel the healing effect getting to work.

“Torbjorn is working on your arm and a new socket – the neural feedback completely destroyed the inner mechanisms and left you with third degree burns as well as some moderate nerve damage. You will also need quite extensive physiotherapy on your right arm once the nanites have finished rebuilding the elbow joint, but-“ Angela quickly added, noting the brief panic that flickered across Jesse’s face, “-there is no reason why you shouldn’t be back to active missions within three or four weeks.”

“Other than that, five broken ribs, some deep bruising and otherwise superficial cuts and abrasions that have already been successfully treated.”

Jesse released the tension he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, letting out a deep breath as he let his eyes slip shut. Now that he was trying to focus, he was developing a rather nasty headache.

“You’re a miracle worker, Angie.”

Angela blushed as she pressed the back of her hand against Jesse’s forehead; sometimes checking things the old fashioned was much more reassuring.

“I’m not a miracle worker – well, not always.”

It didn’t matter though – between the biotic field, the nanites, and the drugs, Jesse was out like a light.

\--------------------------------

The third time Jesse woke, it was dark outside; someone had opened the curtains and the moonlight was streaming in, helped by the light coming from Angela’s office opposite his room.

It wasn’t the light that woke him though. It was feeling of someone’s fingers lacing through his.

It still ached to force his eyes open, his head continuing to pound; he had regained sensation in his arm though, a sign that the nanites were doing their job. He was beyond thankful for small blessings like being able to feel touch again.

Yawning deeply as he rolled his neck, Jesse turned to face his visitor.

Sitting in a plastic chair, staring at Jesse with a look as though they had been caught red-handed doing something they weren’t supposed to, was Hanzo.

As Jesse’s eyes roamed the archer, he could still see the marks of their ordeal; bruises that hadn’t quite faded yet, dried blood around the edges of Hanzo’s nostrils that he’d obviously missed in his attempts to clean up. Hanzo himself looked exhausted, his hair pulled up into a messy bun, his skin pale. He was no longer in his normal attire either – a plain vest and joggers.

“Jesse,” Hanzo startled, “I apologise, I thought you were resting…”

Hanzo went to pull his hand back, but Jesse held firm, squeezing the archer’s fingers reassuringly.

“Ain’t no issue, darlin’, can’t quite rest right anyway.”

Jesse’s voice was a gravelled whisper, his drawl more pronounced than usual, and he could see the effect that it had on Hanzo; the archer couldn’t hold back the visible shiver that rolled down his spine before he slid the chair closer.

“You doin’ alright?”

Hanzo laughed. It was an ugly, broken thing, and Jesse felt his heart clench painfully at the tears he could see welling up in Hanzo’s eyes.

“You almost died, Jesse, and yet you ask if I am the one who is doing alright? As if I am the one in a hospital bed instead of you?”

Hanzo went quiet, his face twisted in guilt.

“You nearly died because of me.”

Jesse struggled to prop himself up, wincing at the pressure on his healing arms as he frantically grasped Hanzo’s wrist, rubbing trembling circles against the bandage there.

“Oh sweetheart, this ain’t your fault! You didn’t ask for this to happen, ya couldn’t have known!”

“But he knew!” Hanzo replied fiercely as he briefly buried his face in his palm. “He knew what you meant to me and in turn used you as a pawn in his attempts to force my hand.”

Hanzo’s eyes slipped shut, his shoulders slumping.

“I do not wish for you to ever come to harm because of me, because of us. Maybe it is for the best if we-“

“Don’t ya dare finish that sentence, Hanzo!” Jesse was fully awake now, adrenaline thrumming through his veins as he weakly reached to cup Hanzo’s cheek in his hand, thumbing away the steady stream of tears that had begun to run down his face.

“Alright, so that bastard used me to get to ya, but honey, I would fuckin’ die for you. Don’t matter who comes for us, we can deal with ‘em. I don’t know what I’d do without you by my side, darlin’…”

Hanzo laughed once more, watery and hollow but no longer quite as disconcerting as before, as he nuzzled his face into Jesse’s hand, brushing his lips softly against his palm.

“Foolish cowboy…”

Jesse grinned tiredly.

“That I am, darlin’, and all yours.”

Leaning back against the pillows, Jesse weakly tugged on Hanzo’s arm, the archer smiling with faint amusement as he complied with Jesse’s wish. Threading his fingers through Jesse’s messy hair, Hanzo leaned forward, their mouths meeting in a lazy but needy kiss.

Jesse groaned gently against Hanzo’s lips, an entirely different kind of heat beginning to lick low in his gut as Hanzo bit down teasingly on Jesse’s bottom lip, using Jesse’s gasp of pained pleasure to push forward and deepen the kiss further.

“Y’know, sometimes I don’t know why I even bother…”

Hanzo jumped away from Jesse as if he’d been burnt, an obvious blush colouring his cheeks as they both turned to look at the figure in the doorway.

Angela’s expression was one of fond disapproval, her arms crossed against her chest as she pointed accusingly at Hanzo.

“When I said you could visit, that did not mean jumping into bed with him.”

Hanzo looked mortified as he obediently sat back down in his chair, Jesse grinning mirthfully until Angela turned her attentions to him.

“And you, rest means exactly that – _rest_. Unless you want to stay with me for much longer, you need to behave and follow doctor’s orders.”

Jesse slouched back down with a grumble as Angela raised an eyebrow, daring either man to challenge her authority.

“ _ **I have my eye on you,**_ ” she remarked before turning on her heel and disappearing again, leaving the door to Jesse’s room slightly ajar.

Both men sat in silence for a brief moment before Jesse gave a snort of laughter. An almost content smile crossed Hanzo’s face as he laced his fingers through Jesse’s once more, pressing an affectionate kiss to Jesse’s forehead before resting his head carefully against Jesse’s shoulder.

“Gonna be mighty sore tomorrow if you sleep like that.”

Another flurry of butterly kisses were pressed against the bare skin of Jesse’s clavicle and throat, Hanzo unable to hold back the yawn that escaped.

“I do not care. I refuse to ever leave your side again.”

The warmth that flooded through Jesse had nothing to do with the biotic field or the drugs, but everything to do with the man beside him as he felt the hazy shadows of sleep beginning to claim him again.

“Love you, darlin’, he whispered fondly, his eyes slipping shut once more.

“And I you, my love,” Hanzo’s equally quiet response the last thing Jesse heard before drifting off to sleep.


	10. Day Ten: You look like you've seen a ghost (Reaper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for falling behind on this - depression has just been absolutely destroying my motivation and energy. 
> 
> This one is shorter than the others I've done so far, but it's one of my favourites. I'm hoping to have another short prompt up later today.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave comments, reviews and prompts - all are gratefully received.
> 
> Enjoy guys!

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost…”

Jesse woke in a panic, chest heaving as he felt the sweat pouring from him. He could feel the nausea brewing in his gut, his eyes slowly accommodating the darkness of the room.

He wasn’t in a dirty alleyway anymore - he was in his own room, his own bed – but he could still hear the distorted laughter, bitter and angry, ringing through his ears.

It felt like every time he closed his eyes, he was instantly transported back to the dingy back streets of Dorado, to the shadow that had been following his every step. He’d known that someone was tracking him, but Jesse couldn’t have ever imagined _who_.

He hadn’t recognised him to begin with.

Of course, everyone knew of the Reaper, how could they have not? The Talon terrorist, the black smoke and the even blacker soul that killed without remorse, that haunted nightmares and ruined lives.

But nobody knew who he _was_.

Until now.

When they’d cornered Jesse in that empty back alley, a shotgun levelled against Jesse’s chest, Jesse had fought back; attacking a near invisible enemy was harder than it looked, but Jesse had managed to get in a few good shots before being knocked to the ground.

“You never were a good student…”

Jesse’s eyes had widened, his heart beating wildly in his chest. There was no way – it wasn’t possible…

“I taught you everything you know, and yet, you still turn out to be a disappointment, vaquero…”

Jesse froze in horror. “Gabriel,” he breathed out, faintly aware of the tears building in his eyes as the monster above him paused for a second before pinning Jesse to the floor with a boot to the chest.

“Gabriel is _dead_ ,” Reaper spat out angrily before pressing the muzzle of his shotgun to Jesse’s forehead.

Before the shadow could pull the trigger though, the thunderous sound of footsteps and Japanese had echoed through the alleyway; the figure above him disintegrated into black smoke so potent that Jesse could taste it on his lips.

He had jumped in shock when he felt a hand gently shaking his shoulder.

“McCree?,” the worried whisper filtered its way into Jesse’s brain, the words becoming more desperate when the cowboy found himself unable to respond.

“Jesse?”

Focusing on the sound of his name, reality finally began to filter through the haze of confusion and fear that clogged up his brain.

“Hanzo.” The tremor in Jesse’s words was obvious, tears finally breaching and beginning to trickle down Jesse’s cheeks as Hanzo gave a deep sigh, brushing the hair back from Jesse’s face.

“We need to move.”

Jesse could barely remember much else after that, just the all-consuming feeling of anger and despair and grief.

It was only a matter of time before the nightmares started.

It had been a week since their encounter in Dorado, yet every time Jesse closed his eyes he was suddenly transported back, flat on his back under the boot of the man who had given Jesse everything.

The man who had saved Jesse’s life, given him a purpose, who had been a father figure and taken Jesse under his wing.

The man that Jesse had mourned for years, whose grave Jesse had visited and wept at.

Jesse felt like his heart was broken all over again.

Jesse jumped when he felt a set of arms wrap firmly around his bare waist, his entire body shaking as he felt himself pulled into the blessedly solid chest of the man beside him.

He felt guilty that he’d woken Hanzo up, guilty that Hanzo was having to deal with the brunt of Jesse’s emotional turmoil and the demons that threatened to consume him. Jesse couldn’t resist the comfort that the archer was offering him, burying his face into the curve of Hanzo’s throat as he sobbed.

Hanzo’s hand came to rest softly against the back of Jesse’s neck, his thumb massaging gentle circles into the knots he found there as he stroked his palm up the length of Jesse’s spine.

“I’m here, Jesse, it’s okay,” Hanzo whispered thickly, brushing his lips against Jesse’s sweaty temple in a devastatingly tender kiss. “You are safe now.”


	11. Day Eleven: Why are you so angry? (Lucio)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, the second prompt of the day for you all. I apologise for just how angsty this one is but I just couldn't force myself to write something happy and fluffy today - hopefully tomorrow will be better.
> 
> Thanks for all your comments, reviews, and prompts - all gratefully appreciated.
> 
> Enjoy.

3am, and Hanzo found himself in his usual haunt: one of the small kitchens where he could sit at the breakfast bar and drink his tea in peace.

Tonight though, he was anything but peaceful.

He felt his hand clenching involuntarily around the chipped blue mug, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He counted to ten in his head, trying to force the tension to loosen his tight and achy muscles, but if anything, it made him more aware of just how wound up he was.

The saddest part? It wasn’t anybody’s fault but his own.

A traitorous whisper in his mind kicked into gear.

_It’s that goddamn cowboy’s fault and you know it…_

Hanzo could feel the frustration building to a point where not even tea and meditation was going to help him, and he pushed himself off his stool, all but throwing his mug in the direction of the sink as he gave out a growl.

**_“Man, why are you so angry?”_ **

Hanzo’s temper flared as he spun on his heel, regarding his interloper with barely contained malice. Lucio was leaning up against the doorframe, watching the archer warily; he too was obviously having trouble sleeping if the ratty old tour t-shirt and bright green sweats were any indication, but almost certainly not for the same reasons as Hanzo.

“It is none of your business,” Hanzo spat out, pulling himself to his full height in an attempt to stare down the younger DJ.

Lucio was having none of it though, his eyebrow raised as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Ha, I’m not hearing that noise! Can’t hide anything from me, Hanzo, it’s what I do!”

Hanzo could feel the burn of the dragons underneath his skin, demanding that he make Lucio disappear so that he could brood in solitude, but the quiet concern and infectious need to make things better were draining the anger out of him.

Heaving a sigh of defeat, Hanzo slumped back down in his stool, resting his chin in his hands as his sharp eyes watched the younger man pull up the stool opposite.

“Now, what’s happening?”

Hanzo bit down hard on his bottom lip, feeling the anger and despair tightening his chest as he glared holes into the bar.

He didn’t know where to start, what to say. A childish part of him wanted to remain silence, to shout obscenities at Lucio and stalk off to sulk where no-one could accidently find him. The worried part of him that flickered low in his gut didn’t want to say a word because he knew what would happen if he said anything.

News would eventually get back to the cowboy one way or another, no matter what Hanzo did, and then Hanzo would have to deal with the fallout.

After all, there was no way that Jesse felt the same for Hanzo as Hanzo did for him.

Flicking his hair back off his face, Hanzo sighed deeply, his words stilted and awkward.

“I have… realised that the friendship I have built up with…” Hanzo paused, debating whether or not to say Jesse’s name before thinking that anonymity was safer. “That the feelings I have for a particular member of our team have started to become more than friendly in nature…”

Realisation crossed Lucio’s face, his eyes lighting up with interest.

“When you say ‘more than friendly’, you admitting that you _like_ someone? Like, _really_ like someone?”

There was amusement in Lucio’s voice that immediately made Hanzo’s nerves rankle.

“I will not be mocked about this,” he replied fiercely, Lucio holding his hands up in surrender.

“I ain’t mocking you, swear down man!” There was a sincerity there that hadn’t been there a few seconds before, and Hanzo hissed out a breath as he rubbed a hand weakly down his arm to try and placate the dragons.

“So, you like someone on the team?” Hanzo nodded reluctantly, his eyes fixed to the bar. “Why don’t you just tell them?”

Hanzo paused.

Why couldn’t he just tell Jesse how he felt? It’s because he already knew that Jesse didn’t feel the same way about him. The cowboy would give him that look of sympathy, maybe a bit of regret, and say something like “well, I’m flattered ya like me, but…”, and it was that ‘but’ that would absolutely destroy the archer.

Sure, he could try and laugh it off, pretend that he could deal with spending the rest of his life as Jesse’s friend, but he already knew that it would cripple him. He wasn’t one to just open his heart to anyone, and this was a one way street to getting his heart ripped into confetti.

Emotions made you vulnerable, were a sign of weakness that was unforgivable to a Shimada, and that was why he was so goddamn angry.

Because _of course_ he had to be weak enough to let Jesse past his defences and wriggle into his guarded heart.

 _Of course_ he hadn’t stamped down on the flickering embers of his feelings when he’d had the chance, selfishly letting the glow of warmth and affection burn until it burned down everything Hanzo had ever learned about love.

And _of course_ this had to happen with the foolish cowboy. His best friend. His partner in crime. The one man who mattered.

“Because,” Hanzo whispered, pain clouding his tone. “I do not wish for my heart to be broken just yet.”

“I’m sorry man,” Lucio eventually piped up, scratching his head roughly as he observed the archer. “There’s always a chance though.”

Hanzo clenched his fists, swallowing down the bile in his throat as he stood up, completely ignoring the other man as he headed towards the door, pausing for what felt like the longest moment.

“I do not deserve it,” he muttered wistfully before walking away.

“I do not deserve him.”


	12. Day Twelve: Winky face (D.Va)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 12 and I decided to go with something a little less angsty - fear not though, I'm planning a companion piece for yesterday's Lucio prompt that will be filled with angst and hurt/comfort galore!
> 
> As always, feel free to leave any prompts, reviews or comments - all are gratefully received!
> 
> Enjoy guys!

“Alright, game face is on, let’s kick some noob butt!”

The chat in the corner of the screen was lighting up as Hana waited for the loading screen, grabbing a handful of chips and shovelling them roughly into her mouth. She took a swig of her drink, humming as she rapidly began replying to some of her adoring fans.

It didn’t matter that she’d been up nearly 20 hours straight on this particular stream – she’d done longer in the name of gaming – she had a title to earn. Slacking off didn’t earn rewards, and she was determined to prove that she was number one.

As the music kicked in, she settled down; a look of determination crossed her painted face, the very tip of her tongue sticking out in concentration.

She’d hunkered herself down in the rec room, her favourite location for some noob butt kicking, and she barely found herself distracted by the sounds of the others coming and going.  
Lucio and Genji had unsurprisingly been the most interested in proceedings, leaning over her shoulder and providing enthusiastic commentary and memories of a youth spent in Hanamura arcades respectively.

They’d both been a hit with her viewing audience as well, the chat going overtime with emotes and gifs and compliments – Lucio had gone a rather fetching shade of red at some of the propositions Hana’s fans were offering him, while Genji had taken it in his stride, flirting and generally being an adorable little shit.

Over the last few hours, there had been plenty of other visitors as well, and it seemed like Hana’s audience was enamoured by every single one of them, posting questions and comments. She liked to be as interactive with her fans as she could – fan support got her where she was after all, it didn’t cost anything to show some love back – and the rest of the team had generally been onboard.

Most of the fans already knew who Tracer was, asking after Emily and what her plans were for Christmas.

With Brigitte, it was about her cats and what she was going to call the new kittens due any day now (Freja and Saga for the girls, Arvid and Benjamin for the boys).

With Angela, it was any funny stories she had to share from medical. She kept confidentiality of course, but it was obvious who she was referring to when she mentioned about a certain explosives expert who’d burned his eyebrows off during an experiment.

It seemed, however, that her audience’s attention was now firmly locked on the two men lazing on the couch behind her.

_OMG Who are those cuties?_   
_They look so adorbs!_   
_Is that Jesse? But who’s that with him?_   
_Ooooooooh is this the Hanzo he keeps talking about?_   
_:O My heart can’t take it!!!!!! <3 <3 <3_

Hana smirked as she slid her headphones off one of her ears.

“Y’know, the whole internet can see your icky old man lovin’ behind me…”

She could see the scandalised look on Jesse’s face as he threw a pillow at her head.

“Less of the old, pipsqueak. Just ‘cause you can stay up for hours on end don’t mean the rest of us can.”

She laughed brightly, giving a small fist punch as she levelled up, taking another gulp of her drink as she cracked her knuckles. Now that she wasn’t playing, she could see exactly what her audience could, and there was no denying that it made her feel all warm and fuzzy.

Jesse was laying on the couch, his metal arm resting on the top of the cushions. Curled up into his chest was Hanzo, the archer’s back to Jesse’s chest and Jesse’s free arm wrapped securely around his waist. Hanzo’s head was resting against Jesse’s shoulder, Jesse occasionally pulling a face whenever Hanzo’s hair brushed against his nose. Jesse’s legs were spread, Hanzo sitting in the space between, and their ankles were entwined together.

Hana could see how the toe of Hanzo’s foot was stroking along the length of Jesse’s calf through his jeans and she made a fake gagging noise, skilfully dodging the second pillow Jesse launched at her.

Neither of them were paying much attention to what Hana was doing; Hanzo’s nose was buried in some Japanese novel, Jesse seemingly content with just spending uninterrupted time with the archer.  
The same couldn’t be said for Hana’s stream, who were bombarding Hana with more comments and questions than she could keep up with. Her chat hadn’t lit up like this in forever, and she felt duty bound to ensure that her audience went away satisfied.

“ _OMG,_ ” she read out deliberately, one eye on the couple behind her, “ _they’re so adorable_.”

Jesse went almost tomato red as he pulled his hat down lower to cover his eyes, Hanzo snickering quietly before pressing his lips absently to Jesse’s jaw.

“ _They’re soooooooooooooooooooooo hot together, **winky face**_ **.** ”

“Now hang on a minute young lady, what kinda people you got watching your streams?”

_“Kiss!” “I wanna see them kiss!” “YES! KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS! Smiley face, heart, smiley face, heart, smiley face.”_

The amusement on Hana’s face was obvious, and it only grew when she heard the grumbling protestations from Jesse. Surprisingly, it was Hanzo who carefully marked his page and closed his book, reaching up a hand to scratch softly through Jesse’s facial hair.

“It seems as if Hana’s audience are requesting that we share a kiss, my love,” Hanzo’s eyes were bright with mischief. “Surely you are no wilting violet now, Jesse?”

Jesse sighed dramatically, leaning forward to peck Hanzo’s lips in the quickest kiss he could; he looked absolutely mortified at the attention, and wasn’t that just a bit strange? Hana thought, that Jesse would be the shy, nervous one of the two.

“I do not believe that Hana’s audience would be satisfied with that effort, Jesse?” The flood of ‘no’s’ and ‘we want tongues!’ that filled Hana’s screen seemed to agree. “Why do we not give her fine fans what they want?”

Before Jesse could even respond, Hanzo had gracefully rolled onto his knees, grasping the brim of Jesse’s hat and frisbeeing it in Hana’s direction as she screamed in fake horror. Tangling his fingers in Jesse’s hair as he felt the cowboy’s hands instinctively loop around his shoulders, Hanzo lowered himself down to meet Jesse’s lips.

The soft groan Jesse gave as Hanzo sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying the plump flesh as he deepened the kiss, had to have been audible on Hana’s microphone; he found he didn’t care though, his tongue plundering Jesse’s mouth as he felt the heat beginning to lick in the pool of his stomach.

Jesse was not unaffected by this, his hands stroking down Hanzo’s back to grab generous handfuls of Hanzo’s ass as he felt his cock beginning to stir to life against Hanzo’s thigh.

“Okay, that’s enough old men, need to keep it PG13 here!”

Ignoring the chat that was glued to the scene behind Hana’s head – some of the comments were getting a bit too gross for her liking, all of her streamers were apparently pervs – Hana watched as Hanzo pulled away from Jesse, whispering something in the cowboy’s ear.

Hana didn’t have to be a genius to know what Hanzo must have suggested, both men pulling each other off the couch in an uncoordinated rush as Jesse scooped down to pick up his hat, planting it firmly on Hana’s head.

“Don’t stay up too long, pipsqueak!”

Jesse’s laugh echoed in the room as he and Hanzo left, and Hana couldn’t stop the shudder as he turned back to the screen in front of her.

“Hope you guys are happy, because there’s not enough bleach in the world to get that outta my head!”


	13. Day Thirteen: That's Sir to you (Soldier 76)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm shit at keeping up to date with these, but depression is destroying me and everything that can go wrong in my general life keeps going wrong so motivation hasn't been particularly high.
> 
> I absolutely love the idea of Jesse and Hanzo in some kind of dom/sub/bdsm style dynamic, and that's what inspired this prompt (no actual sex though, sorry!)
> 
> Companion piece to Lucio's prompt will be done soon.
> 
> As always, comments, reviews and prompts are gratefully appreciated. Hope you all enjoy.

The tension in the room was suffocating, no one daring to move a muscle in case it led to them experiencing the ire of the two men currently locked in an angry standoff.

“You’ve literally only just finished causing chaos in the area – sending you back would be more trouble than it’s worth!”

At one end of the group, flanked by an incredibly uncomfortable Winston and an apparently disinterested Ana, Morrison stood, his hands gripping the edges of the table as he glared at his opponent.

“And I’m thinkin’ you just don’t trust me – I know what I’m doin’, you suggestin’ otherwise?”

Jesse’s voice was quiet and controlled, but Hanzo could hear the accusation in his tone, the way his entire body was gearing up for a fight.

“I didn’t say I don’t trust you, all I’m saying is that you seem to have taken a particularly keen interest in their activities, and considering your history-“

“What d’ya mean, _my history_?”

Jesse’s words were dripping with venom, papers and reports flying to the floor as the cowboy cleared the table in front of him with an angry swipe of his wrist. His hands were clenched now, his knuckles almost white, but Hanzo could see the fine tremor that ran through them.

“Yer walkin’ on mighty dangerous ground, Jackie, wanna rethink what you were gonna say?”

“ _ **That’s Sir to you**_!” Morrison spat out, almost affronted at the lack of respect, before he added firmly, “and I don’t need to rethink anything.”

“I don’t fuckin’ care!” Jesse was fuming, his face red with barely contained fury. “You don’t get to pull rank on me, this ain’t 10 years ago and you ain’t my goddamn commander! You never fuckin’ trusted me then, thinkin’ I was gonna sell you out and go runnin’ back to Deadlock first chance I got, and it’s clear as all hell you still don’t fuckin’ trust me now!”

Morrison didn’t say a word, but his silence was enough of an answer for everyone in the room.

Jesse’s eyes slipped shut as he took a deep, shuddering breath; Hanzo could read Jesse like a book though, and it was painfully obvious that the anger and vitriol was turning into something more personal, more internalised.

It was subtle; the faint whine colouring the edges of Jesse’s words, the way he bit down briefly on his bottom lip, the deep crescent marks in Jesse’s palm as he shakily uncurled his fists.

The way his stare were no longer fixed on Morrison, but on a hazy spot above Morrison’s shoulder, his eyes glassy with vulnerability and self-loathing as he furiously blinked back the film of tears collecting there.

Winston cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Maybe we should end this meeting here.”

There were faint murmurs of agreement, some of the younger members getting the hell out of there as fast as they could. Morrison had slumped back down in his chair, daring anyone to approach him, but scarce few people paid him any attention.

Hanzo was mildly surprised, however, when Reinhardt gave Jesse’s shoulder a firm pat, when Lena stroked Jesse’s arm and leaned in to whisper a soft “I trust you”, when Angela nodded her head reassuringly in his direction as they all shuffled out of the room.

It was obvious that the rest of the team trusted Jesse, and it was enough for a small bloom of warmth to unfurl in his chest as he reached down to lace his fingers through Jesse’s.

Normally, they would refrain from any public displays of affection – Hanzo wasn’t one for grand gestures of emotion and Jesse was more than fine following the archer’s lead – but Hanzo needed to do something to stop Jesse from retreating into his shell.

It seemed like Jesse appreciated it, giving Hanzo’s hand a gentle squeeze as Hanzo stroked his thumb across along the length of their intertwined fingers. It would have to do until they got back to their quarters and Hanzo could properly ground the cowboy, but Hanzo was satisfied that he had done enough for now nonetheless.

Fixing Morrison with a glacial glare as he pushed himself out of his seat, Hanzo sneered at the sour look on Morrison’s face before he pulled Jesse towards the door of the meeting room.

\------------------------------------------

Jesse was beautiful like this.

That undercurrent of anger and hurt was still there flickering through the cowboy’s eyes; Hanzo wasn’t surprised, Jesse always took things extremely personally, internalising every little slight and comment until it spun itself into a crippling self-loathing and doubt that broke Hanzo’s heart.

His Jesse was fierce and loyal, ready to jump into battle to defend those that he cared for regardless of the odds stacked against him.

But he was also constantly at war with himself. Years of questioning his morals, bad decisions and memories that would haunt him for the rest of his days had left him vulnerable to self-hate, to a pain that Hanzo knew could destroy Jesse.

The last thing he needed was to have his faith and trust so viciously undermined and challenged by a man who had neither.

Right now, however, Hanzo watched quietly, admiring the sight before him.

Jesse was on his knees in the middle of their quarters, his muscles taut with tension as Hanzo’s eyes roamed pleasingly over Jesse’s bare chest, the cowboy’s flannel discarded by the door.

His hands were bound behind his back, the cracked supple leather of Jesse’s worn belt wrapped around his wrists; Hanzo knew that Jesse was more than capable of breaking the bind if he wanted to, but Jesse needed the restriction more than he needed the freedom. Hanzo’s hair ribbon was tied between Jesse’s teeth, the delicate material soaked through with spit; the rich blue material stood in striking contract to Jesse’s tanned skin, almost like a brand, and Hanzo would’ve been lying if he said that it wasn’t one of the most arousing things he’d ever seen.

It wasn’t a particularly regular thing that they did, but it was often enough to be an important part of their relationship. Jesse needed assistance to shut up the voices in his head, and Hanzo needed to prove to Jesse that nothing was going to make him leave. This had been the perfect compromise, and if it was something they both enjoyed then Hanzo saw no issues with it; they were consenting adults in the privacy of their partnership.

The second they’d returned to their quarters, Hanzo had immediately taken a step back and pulled himself to his full height, looking and feeling every inch the yakuza prince he once was.

“On your knees, Jesse.”

The words had been soft but were anything but a suggestion, and Jesse had instantly picked up on this. He had still been angry, full of piss and vinegar and the need to fight, and it had taken a few minutes of internal struggling before he had dropped heavily onto his knees with a huff, glaring a hole in the floor.

Hanzo had carefully curled his fingers underneath Jesse’s chin, lifting his eyes to meet his own.

“Good boy.”

Jesse’s reaction had been instantaneous, a shiver running down his spine as his mouth fell open, his eyes flashing with desperation and need.

Need for Hanzo, need for affection, need for submission and a chance to show that he could be trusted, Morrison’s words be damned.

Hanzo had taken his time getting Jesse ready, his hands lingering on all his favourite parts of the cowboy as he’d stripped him to his waist and bound him like a gift. Jesse hadn’t fought him on it even though Hanzo could see how difficult it was for Jesse to let the hurt and anger go, and Hanzo had rewarded him with a messy kiss, weaving his fingers through Jesse’s hair and wrenching his head back as he plundered the cowboy’s mouth before securing the hair ribbon in place.

That had been nearly an hour ago now, and Jesse had barely moved despite the discomfort that his knees and back had to be in. His eyes were a constant kaleidoscope of emotions and thoughts though, his mind obviously rallying against the forced stillness.

Hanzo sighed deeply, putting down the report he’d been skimming through before turning to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Jesse, to me.”

It should’ve been funnier than it was to watch Jesse shuffle awkwardly on his knees towards Hanzo like a child; as it was, Hanzo couldn’t stop the brief smile that pulled at his lips as he cupped Jesse’s cheek. Jesse’s eyes immediately slipped shut as he nuzzled his face into Hanzo’s palm, a low whine rumbling in his chest.

“Good boy,” Hanzo praised again, and it was impossible to miss the slight swell of Jesse’s erection in his jeans, the panted breaths muffled against his gag.

“I trust, that you can continue to be good, Jesse,” Hanzo’s voice was pure velvet now, and he smirked at the desperate nod Jesse gave. “I trust you, my love, to tell me if you need me to stop.” Another nod, Jesse’s eyes cloudy with want and desire.

“ _I_ trust _you_ , Jesse McCree, and that is all that matters.”

Hanzo watched as the tension flooded from Jesse’s body, tears budding in the corner of his eyes as Hanzo’s words began to sink in for what they really meant.

It was breath-taking, watching the vulnerability that washed over the cowboy as he gazed at Hanzo like he had hung the stars in the sky. There were times when Hanzo felt unworthy of Jesse’s adorations, undeserving of the love that Jesse showed him, but when it was just the two of them like this, Hanzo’s fears were as silent as the beautiful man before him.

“Now, the real question Jesse is, do you trust me?”

Jesse didn’t even need time to think as he nodded his head again, tilting his head back to expose the long column of his neck, submission written into every action.

“In that case, my love,” Hanzo’s fingers scratched down the exposed skin before wrapping around the base of Jesse’s throat, revelling in the gasp Jesse gave as his body shook with need.

“Let us begin…”


	14. Day Fourteen: I choose you, spirit dragon (Hanzo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't do these prompts without a sick-fic and some noodle dragons in there somewhere!
> 
> As always, any reviews, comments or prompts are gratefully appreciated!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“I am not ill.”

Jesse snorted, depositing the glass of water and painkillers on the side table before crossing his arms across his chest.

He would’ve believed Hanzo if it was not for the fact that his response had come from beneath a mound of pillows in the gravelliest whine the cowboy had heard, or that it had been followed with a violent coughing fit that left the archer whimpering at the aches and pains Jesse knew he had to be feeling.

“You look like death warmed up, darlin’,” Jesse replied softly, a look of concern making its way across his face as he sat on the edge of the bed.

It had started yesterday on the way back from their mission in Croatia; a light tickle that had Hanzo clearing his throat every minute or so, the occasional sneeze that became full on fits, the faint sheen of sweat and the wave of warmth that sifted through Jesse’s shirt when Hanzo leaned his head against Jesse’s shoulder.

Hanzo had been adamant then that he wasn’t getting sick, going so far as to look insulted at the mere suggestion. Jesse had sighed, brushing his lips against Hanzo’s forehead as the archer fell into a fitful sleep.

Once they’d gotten back to the watchpoint, Jesse wanted nothing more than to head to bed, exhausted from the last few days, and it was a sign of Hanzo’s growing acquiescence that the archer hadn’t argued.

Once they’d made it back to their quarters, Hanzo had shrugged himself out of his clothing; leaving them in a messy pile on the floor – something he would never normally do – Hanzo had dragged himself into bed.

He’d been asleep before his head had even hit the pillow, a nasally whine with every breath the only sign that he was even alive.

“It’s alright to take a day or two if yer not feelin’ great, sugar,” Jesse’s voice was low and soothing as he ran his fingers through the strands of hair stuck to Hanzo’s sweaty forehead. “Ain’t nobody gonna be mad if yer ill.”

“I am not-“

“Just humour me, sweetheart. World ain’t gonna end if you lay in bed a bit longer instead of goin’ to trainin’.”

Hanzo’s eyes were shining bright with fever, reluctant acceptance written into every move as he let himself be manhandled up into a seated position; he roughly swallowed down the pills Jesse offered, sipping delicately from the glass of water as he started to sag against the cowboy’s side from the effort of even doing this.

“Thank you,” Hanzo grumbled before he was overtaken by another brutal coughing fit that left him gasping and rubbing a hand down his sternum to alleviate the ache.

“Go back to sleep, darlin’, I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

Pressing a brief, dry kiss against Hanzo’s lips, Jesse watched as Hanzo laid back down, pulling the covers back over himself with a groan. A huge part of him wanted to stay, spend the morning cuddled up against the archer and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but the team couldn’t afford to be down two key members during training simulations.

With a heavy sigh, Jesse pushed himself to his feet. He grabbed his hat but paused before picking up his serape. Folding the warm, thick material, Jesse gently tucked it underneath Hanzo’s cheek, watching with affection as Hanzo instinctively nuzzled down against the familiar scent.

Giving Hanzo one last long look, he left, closing the door silently behind him as he headed down to the training range.

\--------------------------------------------------------

It was three hours later during a blessed break in training that Jesse was opening the door to their quarters, and the sight before him startled him into amused laughter.

Hanzo was still in bed, propped up against the pillows, but he was not alone.

Scurrying all over the covers, chirping excitedly as they dodged Hanzo’s hands, were Soba and Udon.

It was very rarely that the two dragons made their presence known outside of battle; it was nearly impossible the first couple of times to reconcile the bloodthirsty ethereal spirits with the cat-like creatures.

The first time Jesse had seen them like this, he’d thought he’d been seeing things.

He’d been looking for Hanzo after a stressful mission, opening the door to their shared quarters to the sound of running water and Hanzo’s off-kilter humming. His clothes were pilled neatly in the chair, but it was the fact that they were _moving_ that had caught Jesse’s eye.

Cautiously approaching, Jesse tugged away Hanzo’s shirt to find two blue dragons hissing angrily at him; he’d backed up, hands raised in supplication as his eyes had nearly bugged out of his head.

“Soba! Udon! That is no way to treat Jesse!”

Jesse hadn’t even heard the shower stop, jumping at the sound of Hanzo’s words as he watched the archer approach the two cat-sized creatures; Hanzo had stared at them affectionately before curling his fingers against the horns of the smaller dragon and scritching gently, the normally fierce dragon reduced to a purring mess as its partner immediately sought out Hanzo’s attentions.

“So,” Jesse started, nerves picking up as three sets of eyes – some more hostile than others – immediately turned to face him. “I’m not seein’ things? Them’s yer dragons?”

Hanzo nodded.

“This is Soba,” he scratched under the chin of the smaller dragon, “and this is Udon,” stroking a hand down the length of the larger dragon. Hanzo saw the look of bemusement on Jesse’s face and a flush coloured his cheeks. “They were named when I was five, Genji’s dragon is named along a similar noodle theme.”

A cautious smile crossing his face, Jesse had approached the trio, his fingers shaking just slightly as he held his palm up to the two dragons; they stopped hissing at him, approaching carefully as they began to sniff and lick at Jesse’s hand.

Everything was silent until the soft sound of chirping and clicking filled the air as Soba and Udon seemingly approved, rubbing their faces all over Jesse’s wrist and arm.

“I think they like me!” Jesse’s words were dazed, an almost childlike excitement colouring his tone as he had begun to lavish attention on the two small creatures.

The shy grin on Hanzo’s face as he stroked his fingers through Jesse’s hair was enough to make a ball of warmth unfurl in Jesse’s chest.

“I believe that they do, just as their owner does.”

Since then, the dragons had appeared every now and again, usually whenever Hanzo felt extremely tired or extremely safe; they were a physical manifestation of his emotions, Hanzo had explained once, and that just made Jesse fall in love with Hanzo and the damned things more and more.

Right now though? Jesse couldn’t hold back the laughter as he watched Hanzo scoop up Soba and Udon, raising them above his head in a way reminiscent of the old Disney movies that Hana liked to watch.

“ ** _I choose you, spirit dragonI,_** ” Hanzo slurred tiredly, the dragons wriggling proudly in his grasp.

Jesse couldn’t stifle his laugh, fondness colouring his expression as he watched the scene before him.

Hanzo’s eyes were sparkling with fever, his skin just a shade paler than usual as he wriggled his nose adorably in a sneeze. It was clear that the pills Jesse had given him earlier had knocked him for six, a silly grin on his lips, and Jesse couldn’t help the affection that rushed over him.

Soba’s ears pricked up at the sound of Jesse’s chuckle, her manic chirping drawing Udon’s attention until the chorus of clicking and whining could probably be heard at the other end of the watchpoint.

“Aight girls, I’m comin’, quiet down!”

When Jesse was within touching distance, he found himself with a pair of excitable, furry dragons clambering up to wrap around his shoulders and rub their whiskers all over his face.

“Yeah yeah, I love you girls too,” Jesse whispered good-naturedly, and he could feel Hanzo’s eyes on him as he pressed exaggerated kisses to Soba and Udon’s heads.

“I’m also pretty fond of yer owner here, so if you don’t mind, I’m just gonna put you down here so that he can have a kiss too.”

Both dragons made token noises of protest as Jesse dropped them back down onto the covers, reaching forward to run his fingers softly through Hanzo’s sweaty hair. Hanzo immediately leaned forward, burying his face against Jesse’s stomach with a faint moan.

Leaning down, Jesse pressed a warm kiss to the top of Hanzo’s head.

“How you feelin’, darlin’?”

A brief pause.

“Tired. Sore.” Hanzo grumbled before whispering in admittance, “I think I may be ill.”

Jesse went to stand up, but sickness made Hanzo more of a limpet than usual and Jesse found himself with a face full of pillows and Hanzo’s arms wrapped ridiculously tight around him. Hanzo’s face instantly found its home against the curve of Jesse’s neck, and Jesse gave a long-suffering sigh as he drew Hanzo in closer.

“Guess I’m not goin’ back to trainin’,” Jesse groused as Soba and Udon clambered back over the two of them; Soba curled up on top of Jesse's serape as Udon nipped playfully at Jesse’s fingertips as they skated down Hanzo’s spine.

Jesse couldn’t complain though as he let his eyes slip shut, a contentment blooming in his chest.

He couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.


	15. Day Fifteen: Stupidity is not a right (Moira)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this prompt - unsurprising considering that I love Moira almost as much as I love Jesse and Hanzo!
> 
> As always, any prompts, reviews or comments are gratefully received! Thank you all for the love you've been showing this series recently <3
> 
> Enjoy guys!

“Our courageous cowboy. The years haven’t changed you much, have they, Jesse?”

“They certainly haven’t changed my feelings about working with _you_.”

Moira smiled wryly.

“And yet, here we are…”

Jesse scowled, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the wall, ignoring the knowing smirk on Moira’s face.

He never thought he’d live to see the day that the likes of Moira and other Talon scientists would be working with Overwatch, but the situation was dire and it wasn’t like there was much choice to be fair.

One of the God AI programs was showing signs of extreme activity again. Its previously fortified encryption systems had somehow managed to be hacked, and for once it wasn’t because of Talon. No one knew who it was causing the hostile technology to reboot, but the potential ramifications for its reactivation were apocalyptically catastrophic.

It had been a shock when Winston had called the emergency meeting, and everyone had entered the conference room to find Moira fucking O’Deorain flanked by Morrison and Angela, distaste and distrust clear on both of their faces.

Those like Lucio and Hana, young as they were, looked sceptical.

The older Overwatch agents? Their expressions ranged from angry (Lena) to fearfully resigned (Reinhardt).

Jesse and Genji, however? The look in their eyes was downright murderous for different reasons, and it had taken Hanzo’s hand on both of their shoulders to stop either of them from putting a bullet or shuriken in her.

Winston avoided their glares as he cleared his throat awkwardly, explaining the situation as briefly as he could.

Both Overwatch and Talon had vested interest in the God AI _not_ restarting, but neither organisation on its own had the means to stop the program. Together though, there was the possibility that their pooled resources and knowledge could potentially avert the looming crisis.

It had been Hanzo, his voice even except for the undercurrent of displeasure lacing his words, who had asked what everyone else was scared to.

“How can we trust them?”

Moira had merely smiled, tapping her nails against the desk.

“You can’t,” she remarked calmly, “but you don’t have any other choice.”

A week had passed since that awkward meeting, Moira and her small group of assistants setting up base in an empty set of labs next to Winston’s as the unlikely team began researching what they could about the God AI.

One of the conditions vehemently imposed by the team in regard to Moira’s proposal, however, was that she was personally accompanied at all times by a member of Overwatch; after all, as Jesse and Genji fiercely argued, she was still Talon, and her previous involvement in Blackwatch meant that she couldn’t be trusted for a second.

Surprisingly, Moira had agreed, providing that her ‘babysitter’ didn’t get in the way of her work.

They’d all taken it in shifts: someone to oversee Moira’s research during the day, and someone to keep close tabs on Moira whenever she wasn’t in the labs.

By this point, every member of Overwatch had pitched in.

Everyone except Jesse.

Even Genji had done his share; he’d sworn not to exact any kind of vengeance against her, as much as she deserved it, and Zenyatta had been there afterwards to help him calm down and refocus his mind.

But Jesse? He’d outright refused the first time Winston had approached him, barely able to contain his fury as he venomously told him ‘where to stick his priorities’ and then stalked off to the training range where he beat the hell out of a training dummy.

He’d refused the second time, and the third time. He refused when Angela asked him softly, and he refused when Morrison demanded.

It had been after the fourth such argument in the space of three days that Hanzo had tracked him down to their usual haunt on the skywalk with a bottle of sake and a listening ear.

Even to his friend, it was difficult to admit that Moira’s presence was a stark, unavoidable reminder of unpleasant memories, of the horrible nightmares that had plagued him twice as hard since her arrival.

Under the weight of her superior smirk, Jesse felt like that fucked up kid again, gorging on blood and torture and the other sick things he had done under the pretence of justice and making the world a better place.

Sure, Jesse was thankful to Blackwatch – to Reyes – for giving him a chance. He was thankful to Blackwatch for dragging him from Deadlock.

But he wasn’t thankful for what Blackwatch had made him: an angry, bitter executioner.

The sympathetic grimace on Hanzo’s face had been more than he could deal with; Jesse had generally made peace with his past, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Hanzo feeling sorry for him.

Jesse sneered as much at the archer, Hanzo sitting in silence for what felt like an eternity before pulling the cowboy into an awkward hug that made Jesse’s heart clench in his chest and his mind race with shameful thoughts about his friend.

“Thank you for trusting me, Jesse’ – and goddamn it but the sound of Jesse’s given name in Hanzo’s gravelly tones had only made the flicker of heat in his gut burn brighter – “I do believe, however, that the best way to make peace with this is to stop running from it.”

“You’ve been hangin’ around yer brother and that monk of his too long,” Jesse whispered dumbstruck, but he had to begrudgingly admit that Hanzo might have had a point.

That had been the previous night, Jesse’s skin still tingling from the contact of Hanzo’s embrace deep into the following afternoon where he’d made his decision; he’d given himself a pep talk, a shot of whiskey for dutch courage, and then headed down to the labs.

Moira’s eyes appraised him, and Jesse scratched his neck at the uncomfortable sensation of just being watched so brazenly; the scientist huffed out a laugh, obviously pleased with whatever she saw before turning her attentions back to her work. The tension was stifling, the curdling knot in Jesse’s gut not helped by Moira’s occasional attempts at getting under his skin.

“So, how has life been for a wanted cowboy?”

No response.

“Been back to visit Deadlock recently?”

Silence.

“I still do not understand why you chose to come back to Overwatch after everything that happened…”

Jesse’s eye twitched, a sour taste burning his throat as he snapped back defensively.

“’Cause they’re _family_.”

“Because you _think_ they’re family…” Moira replied haughtily, “not that family has ever meant much to you, of course…”

Jesse’s hands clenched into such tight fists that his knuckles went white, something he knew the always observant scientist would spot in a heartbeat.

He didn’t justify her accusations with a response though, a loaded quiet blanketing the room as he gazed at the clock on the far wall.

Just two more hours to go and then he could go and get so mind-numbingly drunk that he’d forget the damned woman existed. He’d survived torture and interrogations for longer than that.

Thankfully, Moira seemed more interested in the calculations in front of her than antagonising the already wound up cowboy any further, and Jesse gave a deliberate sigh as he uncurled his fingers.

The next hour and a half crawled by. Jesse hadn’t moved from his spot by the door, neither had his eyes wandered from the scientist; a steady mantra of _remember what Hanzo said remember what Hanzo said remember what Hanzo said_ echoed through his ears almost as a form of meditation.

“Curious,” Moira intoned, “you only get that expression on your face when you’re thinking about someone important to you…”

Jesse paused, a bitter laugh falling from his lips as he pulled his hat back up from where it had fallen over his face.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” he replied bluntly, “and what expression would that be?”

Moira smiled, but there was something peculiar about the way she looked at him.

“The same expression you used to get whenever you were around Gabriel for too long…”

A red mist descended on Jesse before he could stop it as he squared up to the scientist watching him.

“What in the fuck are you-“

“ ** _Stupidity is not a right_** , Jesse,” Moira sounded almost bored now. “You know as well as I do what I mean.”

And the horrible thing was, Jesse did.

Jesse used to follow Gabriel around like a kicked puppy, starved and desperate for any scrap of attention and affection he could get. If he had to give it a name, it was almost certainly love as he understood it then – definitely _not_ what Jesse knew love to be _now_ – but it was a still a heart-wrenchingly visceral feeling, and even thinking about it now made Jesse’s chest tighten just a bit.

“I wonder who you are thinking about now…”

 _Hanzo_ , Jesse thought with a moment of startling clarity.

Shame he hadn’t realised that he’d said the archer’s name out loud until Moira laughed, an almost sad tinge to the sound.

“The elder Shimada? How predictable – you always have been attracted to danger…”

Jesse said nothing, caught up in the flurry of near panic that threatened to consume him.

Hanzo. He was thinking about Hanzo. He was thinking about Hanzo with the same lovestruck look on his face he had for Reyes all those years ago. He was thinking about Hanzo with the same lovestruck look on his face he had for Reyes all those years ago, and it was so goddamned blindingly obvious now.

He was in love with Hanzo.

And he hadn’t realised it until _Moira fucking O’Deorain_ had clued him in on it.

“Fuck,” Jesse whispered, a flush of shame and embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

“Indeed, now if you do not mind, I’m working…”

Jesse stood in stunned silence, so focused on the intensity of this new revelation that he missed the sound of the door opening and Lena popping her head around with a chirpy ‘hi there!’ He jumped so violently – something he would deny until his dying breath – that his hat fell to the floor, Moira glaring at him.

“Are you finished?”

Jesse swallowed down the retort on his lips, bending down to pick up his hat and putting it back on his head as Lena apologised with a laugh, saying something about dinner and Reinhardt and cards that Jesse barely heard.

His eyes met Moira’s once more.

“O’Deorain.”

“It’s been grand, Jesse,” she answered, superiority lacing her tone before her voice became quieter, more laden with interest. “I look forward to any future developments that may occur as a result of our… conversations.”

Ignoring Lena’s confused expression and raised eyebrow, Jesse ducked out the labs as fast as he could, the sound of Moira’s vaguely triumphant laughter following behind him.

Future developments indeed, Jesse thought, but for now, he needed to find Hanzo.


	16. Day Sixteen: Do you need a hug? (Orisa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus christ, this one got away from me. This was literally supposed to be a short, fluffy drabble, and then angsty feelings attacked it.
> 
> As always, reviews, comments and prompts are all welcomed and gratefully received! Thank you all for your awesome support!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! :)

There was something liberating about a city that welcomed everyone, human and omnic alike, with open arms and a sense of community; it stood in stark contrast to the current European climate of protests and political oppression that threatened to boil over into anarchy whenever someone so much as thought about the apparently crazy notion of omnics having rights.

When Winston had told the entire team that they would be sent to Numbani on a major mission, the atmosphere was one of contained excitement.

An international humanitarian conference and awards ceremony was due to take place in the city, one that would almost certainly attract the attentions of rights groups across the spectrum; this included some potentially dangerous terrorist cells like a resurging Null Sector, as well as the usual organisations like Talon and Vishkar.

It was a simple enough mission: recon, peacekeeping, and intercepting any illegal activities that could destabilise the event.

The flight over had been a buzz of conversation and pre-mission energy. It was clear that this was something many of the team felt strongly about, and even those who normally had reservations about omnic rights – Torbjorn and Zarya in particular – had begrudgingly put aside their own personal beliefs for the good of the mission.

Hell, even Hanzo was in the middle of various discussions going on around him, contributing every now and again with titbits of information, a quirked smile gracing his lips as he watched Genji hold court with Lena and Lucio about the Shambali and their role in redefining human-omnic relations.

No one seemed to notice that Jesse wasn’t there.

The cowboy was happy to keep it that way as he slumped further into his seat, pulling his hat down over his eyes.

The curdling nausea that had been brewing in Jesse’s gut for the last few hours refused to die down, Jesse vehemently ignoring the tremor in his fingers as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

It had been a bad night, even by Jesse’s low standards.

He was no stranger to nightmares, to waking up screaming at the memories and shadows that haunted him. He was used to dealing with the lingering anxiety, the fight or flight that knotted his stomach and tightened his chest as tears budded in the corners of his eyes. He knew how to work his way through the fog of dissociation and exhaustion that inevitably came with the drop back to reality.

What he wasn’t used to, however, was the slowly changing narratives of his dreams.

More specifically, the presence of one Hanzo Shimada.

It really shouldn’t have surprised him that his mind would take his burgeoning feelings for the archer and twist them up in this way; it was a habit he hadn’t worked out how to break, taking something shiny and precious like his growing affections and letting it be tainted by crippling self-loathing and doubt by way of his messed-up dreams.

And last night’s dream had been a doozy.

_Hanzo on his knees bleeding out from six bullet holes in his chest, his eyes cold and breaths shallow as he’d stared up at Jesse and the smoking gun held between trembling fingers that Jesse didn’t even remember shooting, his voice barely above a whisper as blood tinted his lips…_

_Why did I ever think you could change? You deserve to suffer…_

His words came out in Jesse’s voice, his own insecurities reflected back at him as he helplessly watched Hanzo crumple lifeless to the floor, the sound of his screamed begging waking him up as tears streamed down his face. He barely made it to the bathroom before retching, bile burning his throat.

He’d have stayed curled up on the cold tiles, a sobbing wreck, if it wasn’t for the sound of Genji knocking on his door, telling him to hurry up because they were leaving soon and there wouldn’t be any breakfast left at this rate.

Now though, as his eyes were drawn to the archer – talking, breathing, alive – and he swallowed against the thick lump in his throat, he was beginning to wish he’d never come.

They’d landed in Numbani a couple of hours later, and Jesse groaned at the stiffness in his neck and shoulders as he’d pulled himself to his feet, trying to ignore the concerned eyes that followed his movements as the team made their way to the conference centre.

\------------------------

“Jesse McCree; outlaw. Reward: 60 million dollars. The reward would make up for Efi’s grant money.”

“Hey, come on now,” Jesse laughed awkwardly, trying to cover up the desperate whine in his voice. The last thing he wanted right now was a glaring reminder of his past failures.

The omnic in front of him – she called herself Orisa – tilted her head, and Jesse got the distinct feeling he was being analysed.

“It is true though,” a rough voice whispered with a laugh in his ear, and Jesse flinched at its closeness. “There are a lot of things that could be done with your bounty.”

Jesse could feel the heat of Hanzo’s body against his back, the faint rasping tickle of Hanzo’s beard against the shell of his ear as the archer waited for Jesse’s typically charming and over the top response. As the silence dragged on, he could almost feel the smirk on Hanzo’s face drop.

When no answer came, Hanzo’s hand came up to rest softly on the back of Jesse’s neck, Jesse fighting the overwhelming urge to rip himself from Hanzo’s warm touch and run away; the expression on Jesse’s face must have said as much, because the next thing he knew he was being led from the rest of the group into a quiet corner of the room.

“McCree,” the concern in Hanzo’s voice was palpable, and Jesse could feel the flush of shame rising on his cheeks as he stared at the floor. “Are you okay?”

Jesse bit down on his lip hard enough to taste blood, his fingers trembling as he curled his hands into tight fists.

He was not okay, nowhere near.

He was brutally, fatalistically in love with a man who couldn’t possibly feel anything towards him because Jesse didn’t deserve it. His nightmares were just a reflection on reality, on the mess of emotions that bubbled below Jesse’s skin which he’d spent years trying to deal with.

He was hurt and sad and oh so tired. He was a lovesick fool, so pathetic that even his dreams were mocking him for it.

He couldn’t tell Hanzo this though – the confirmation of his one-sided affections would absolutely destroy him – so he plastered on a grin, trying not to collapse under the weight of Hanzo’s fingers wrapped around his wrist and the thumb rubbing circles into his frantically beating pulse point.

“Just fine, sugar,” he replied with an energy he didn’t feel, “had a bit of a rough night, y’know, could do with a whiskey and a few hours.”

Hanzo hummed, a look of scepticism crossing his face. “Your nightmares have been much more frequent recently,” Hanzo remarked, and Jesse ignored the stutter in his chest as the casual observation. “This worries me greatly, I must admit.”

Jesse felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Hanzo must have noticed the conflicted pain in Jesse’s eyes because his grip tightened on the cowboy’s wrist, moving to block Jesse’s view of the rest of the conference room as he cupped his hands around Jesse’s throat softly.

“McCr- Jesse,” Hanzo corrected himself, and Jesse couldn’t stop the whine he let out, anxiety crawling through his veins. “If there is something I could do to ease your fears…”

 _Love me_ , Jesse’s traitorous mind kicked in. _Love me or stop caring. Stop making it so easy to love you when I don’t deserve you._

“Jesse?” Hanzo’s voice was thick with worry now, and Jesse realised that he hadn’t heard a word the archer had said for the las few minutes, so caught up in his own heard as he was.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse eventually ground out, despair and self-loathing colouring his tone.

Before Hanzo could respond though, their names were called from the other side of the room, and Jesse used the excuse to pull himself out of the archer’s touch as he stalked back over to the group; Hanzo looked like he wanted to argue, the twitch in his fingers indicating that he was trying to stop himself from reaching out to Jesse again, but he stayed silent as he rejoined the team.

His eyes never once left Jesse though, and Jesse could feel the nausea curdling in his stomach once more.

\----------

“Jesse McCree, I apologise if I said anything to offend; Efi would be most displeased to hear that I have upset you in any way.”

Jesse heaved out a sigh, brushing his hair from his face as he turned to face Orisa.

“Ain’t nothin’ to worry about, darlin’, no apologies needed.”

The team had been sent out on their various recons, Winston establishing a base in one of the hotels across the street. Jesse had volunteered to stay with Orisa at the conference centre on standby in case his assistance was needed. There had been an array of eyebrows raised and murmurs from the group at Jesse’s decision; it was incredibly rare for Jesse to back down from any kind of mission, regardless of how small. He’d played off their concerns and jokes with a forced smile, coming out with a flimsy excuse about how he needed to recalibrate his arm for the Numbani heat.

Hanzo had looked like he wanted to say something but kept silent as he paired off with his brother to check out the airport, his eyes lingering uncomfortably on Jesse as they left.

“You seem distressed, Jesse McCree.”

Jesse went tense, his fingers rapidly tapping a staccato rhythm against the arm of his chair.

“Just McCree is fine,” he blurted out without thinking, before humming slightly. “An’ I wouldn’t say distressed, just…”

“Worried? Concerned? Troubled?”

A sardonic smile briefly quirked Jesse’s lips as he rested his elbows on his knees, his chin in his palms.

“Troubled ain’t the half of it.”

Jesse watched the expression change on Orisa’s face to one of contemplation.

“I am programmed to help,” Orisa finally replied with a sense of purpose after a few moments. “Efi tells me many things when she is troubled, and it appears to help her greatly to share these worries. Perhaps you would feel similarly, McCree?”

Jesse huffed out a bitter chuckle before he realised that the omnic was deadly serious in her suggestion. Leaning back into his chair, he watched as she spun in place before sitting like a curious puppy, and for a brief second Jesse had to resist the urge to reach out and scratch her head.

He sighed deeply, unable to look at her as he bit his lip gently.

Orisa had a point, and he had nothing to lose from offloading all of his shit onto a random omnic.

So he did.

He held absolutely nothing back. No stone was left unturned, no thought left unvoiced, no feeling left hidden as he emptied out his heart and his mind to the pensive omnic before him. Nightmares, fears, his crippling self-esteem issues, Hanzo…

It almost felt like draining an abscess, infection seeping out of him with every word he spoke, until it left behind nothing but a hollow shell. As Jesse slumped back against the chair, he could feel the tears building in the corners of his eyes, but also the blessed lightness in his chest.

He knew it would only be a temporary reprieve, but he found that he didn’t care.

He felt exhausted as Orisa raised up onto all-fours, giving a metallic whirr of a hum.

“Do you feel any better, McCree?”

Jesse gave a hum of his own.

“Enough.”

Orisa regarded him again, her head tilted to one side.

“ ** _Do you need a hug?_** ”

Jesse chuckled, a touch on the hysterical side as an unexpected rush of anxiety flooded back over him. This was turning out to be the most surreal experience of his life.

“Fuck it, sure.”

It was an incredibly strange embrace - Jesse’s body still taut with tension and Orisa’s arms too hard and inflexible – but Jesse could feel the last of his walls crumbling down as he leaned his forehead onto Orisa’s shoulder joint.

He wept.

Choked sobs fell from his salt-stained lips as he sagged against the omnic, Orisa’s mechanical hands patting his back. The entire world seemed to spinning off-kilter around him, his head throbbing and his chest aching, but he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

He didn’t notice he had an audience until someone awkwardly cleared their throat behind him.

Jesse pulled away from Orisa, groaning when he realised who it was as he roughly rubbed the tears from his face.

Hanzo.

Of course it would be.

The archer’s cheeks were flushed with either embarrassment or shame at interrupting on what was obviously such a personal moment, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve as his gaze briefly dropped to the ground.

“I apologise for intruding,” his voice low and gravelly, and Jesse couldn’t stop the ball of warmth uncurling in his stomach. “Genji and I have finished our reconnaissance, and I wanted to see how you were. I was…” Hanzo paused, heaving a sigh before looking Jesse straight in the eye. “I am worried about you, Jesse, and it appears that I have good reason to be.”

There was naked fear and concern painted on the archer’s face, a need to understand and to help backlighting his stare. Jesse could barely breath around the lump in his throat as Hanzo’s hand came to cup his face, a shaking thumb caressing his cheek and wiping away the tears that lingered. Jesse wanted to push closer, pull away, shout, scream, do _something_ , but he found himself frozen under the tenderness of Hanzo’s touch.

“McCree has spoken of a great many troubles,” Orisa intoned formally, and Jesse couldn’t even find it in him to get angry at her for breaking the moment. “He has suffered terribly because of them, but I do not believe they are untreatable.”

“How can I make things better?” Hanzo whispered, taking a step closer to the cowboy.

Jesse’s heart was thudding violently in his chest, nausea brewing in his gut as the tip of Hanzo’s thumb strayed towards Jesse’s mouth. His brain was filled with white noise, desperate plea in his tone as he suddenly reached up to grab Hanzo’s head between sweaty hands.

“Please don’t hate me.”

And before Hanzo could even answer, Jesse closed the distance, pressing his lips against Hanzo’s in a heart wrenchingly gentle kiss.

It lasted a handful of seconds, Jesse’s salty lips rasping feather-light against Hanzo’s before he pulled away in a moment of sheer panic.

“I’m sorry, I just-“

The rest of Jesse’s frantic apologies were swallowed by Hanzo’s mouth against his.

This one lasted longer, Hanzo’s lips tentatively moulding to Jesse’s; they were warm, slightly chapped but still inviting. As the archer pulled away, Jesse bit back a whine as reality suddenly crashed back down around him and he felt the anxiety consume him once more.

He went to open his mouth but was stopped by the tips of Hanzo’s fingers resting against his lips.

“Do not apologise for this,” Hanzo crooned, almost as if Jesse was a skittish horse getting ready to bolt. Hanzo’s fingers were playing through Jesse’s hair delicately. “If anything, I feel like I should be the one apologising.”

The devastation on Jesse’s face must have been obvious, because Hanzo shushed him immediately, brushing his lips against Jesse’s once more until the cowboy relaxed again.

“I have been a coward for far too long now. Genji told me the reasons you have been having your nightmares. He has heard you on many occasions from his room shouting my name in pain and hurt,” Hanzo admitted. “He told me that it was wrong of me to pretend like you were the only one with feelings. I have let you suffer in silence when I myself was too scared and proud to admit it.”

Jesse was stunned, stamping down on the seeds of hope budding in his chest.

“I’m a fuckin’ mess, Hanzo,” Jesse replied, self-loathing colouring his tone as he tried and failed to pull himself from Hanzo’s grip. “I don’t deserve any o’ this.”

“You deserve everything,” Hanzo shot back fiercely, wrapping his arms tight around Jesse as he breathed into his ear. “You deserve love, Jesse, and I will give it to you for as long as you let me.”

“For as long as I can, darlin’…”

And in Hanzo’s embrace, Jesse finally started to believe it could be possible.


	17. Day Seventeen: I give it a ten! (Junkrat) (Part 1 of 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of two parts; it's going to be silly, it's going to be fluffy, and it's hopefully going to be awesome!
> 
> As always, any prompts, comments or reviews are gratefully received and all extremely appreciated! :)
> 
> Enjoy guys!

To say that the team were sick and tired of the ridiculous sexual tension between Jesse and Hanzo was an understatement.

Ever since the archer had first arrived at the watchpoint, it had been obvious that there was some mutual appreciation going on.

Angela had never seen Jesse quite so dumbstruck, a leer on his face as he immediately ratcheted up the charm; he’d strutted right up to Hanzo, tipping his hat.

“Howdy handsome, the name’s McCree,” a wicked smirk curled the cowboy’s lips as he unashamedly admired the intricate tattoo, his gaze lingering on Hanzo’s chest before meeting the archer’s eyes, “but you can call me anythin’ you want, sugar…”

Jesse winked, cocking his hip out to one side as he practically displayed himself like a feast.

Angela facepalmed. If Hanzo didn’t slap the damn cowboy for being so flirty, then Genji almost certainly would, and she mentally started planning the equipment she’d need to heal Jesse’s face and ego. To her surprise though, Hanzo had licked his lips slowly, meeting Jesse’s brazen gawping with a heat-filled stare of his own as a dark smile flashed across his face.

“So predictable,” he ground out, but there was nothing malicious behind Hanzo’s words, obvious lust dripping in his tone as he boldly leaned forward and brushed a stray bang from Jesse’s stunned face. “I look forward to working with you _very closely_ , McCree…”

Jesse flushed red at the barely concealed entendre, whistling out a sigh as Genji dragged his brother off to meet the rest of the team; pulling his hat from his head, he fanned himself with it.

“Oh Lord sweet baby Jesus…”

“Behave yourself, Jesse, I’d hate to have to patch you up,” Angela chastised, but her heart was thudding in her chest.

She wasn’t usually one for idle gossip, but she couldn’t wait to tell the others.

\--------

That had been three months ago, and to say that things had been getting a little out of hand would be putting it mildly.

Not a single day went past when there wasn’t some lewd, suggestive conversation held across comms, or the training range, or even the kitchen table. There was no concept of personal space, Jesse all but throwing himself at the archer whenever he could and Hanzo responding to Jesse's attentions and affections with some borderline inappropriate touches and caresses.

It was driving the rest of the team absolutely mad.

So much so that there had been a secret meeting called by Hana. A small group of them – Hana, Lucio, Angela, Lena, Mei, Fareeha and Junkrat – had assembled in one of the less used offices.

“Enough is enough,” Hana had rallied like some war cry, slamming her fist down on the table. “I can’t deal with the flirting any more, we need a plan to get those two knuckleheads together before the entire base explodes from the sexual tension!”

“Agreed,” Lena nodded enthusiastically, “this is getting ridiculous.”

“It’s nice to see Jesse so happy though,” Angela interjected quietly as she took a sip of her tea.

“But surely he’d be even happier if him and Hanzo stopped dancing around each other and actually did something?”

Fareeha glanced over at Lucio. “Perhaps, but we don’t know what Jesse wants out of this. Maybe he just enjoys the flirting and the thrill of it all?”

“Come on!” Mei responded. “It’s obvious that Jesse wants more but is too scared to go and get it.”

Angela sighed heavily, a contemplative look on her face. “That is true. God knows the poor boy has been burned enough in the past.”

Fareeha and Lena both nodded in solemn agreement; memories sprung to mind of a much younger Jesse, lost and alone because he loved too easily and received nothing in return.

“But that’s exactly why we need to get them together! It’s so obviously not a one-sided thing!” Hana protested.

“It really isn’t,” Lucio declared, sliding his headphones round his neck. “Genji’s told me himself that Hanzo’s got it bad for Eastwood, may have asked him for advice on how to get Jesse’s interest…”

Every set of eyes turned to focus on the DJ, an awkward silence descending.

“And how'd you know ‘bout that then, aye?” Junkrat asked with a leer.

An embarrassed blush instantly crawled up Lucio’s cheeks as he scratched his head; his lack of an answer spoke volumes though.

“Oooookay, didn’t need to know that,” Hana shuddered.

“Aw, this is sweet though!” Lena chirped in, slinging her arm around Lucio’s shoulders. “So how long have the two of you been a thing? You kept that quiet!”

Before Lucio could formulate a response, Fareeha rolled her eyes, pushing herself from her seat to brace her arms against the table.

“Guys, we’re here to deal with Jesse and Hanzo, we can interrogate him later,” she thumbed towards Lucio, who was slowly sinking further in his seat. “Now, let’s get our heads together…”

\------------

“Okay, so that’s the plan, what does everything think?”

“ ** _I give it a ten_**!” Junkrat proclaimed gleefully, the rest of the little group nodding their hands and murmuring their agreements.

“Well then, in that case,” Hana confirmed, barely holding back the small squeal of mischief. “Operation McHanzo is a go!”


	18. Day Eighteen: Inconspicuous (Junkrat) (Part 2 of 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second part of the Operation McHanzo prompt! I'm hoping over the next couple of days to catch up on the missing days, so keep an eye out!
> 
> As always, prompts, comments and reviews are all gratefully received and extremely appreciated :)
> 
> Enjoy guys! :)

It was supposed to be simple: an invitation to dinner that would end up being a date. It may have been a bit clichéd, but as Lena had pointed out, it was a cliché for a reason.

They’d booked a table in one of the fancy little restaurants in town; as it was coming up to the holidays, it wasn’t that unusual for Overwatch to have a meal to celebrate, and they’d somehow managed to convince the two men to attend.

Lucio had used Genji as leverage to persuade Hanzo to come along; he’d felt guilty for what felt like forever afterwards though. It was considerably easier for Angela and Fareeha to get Jesse on board; the cowboy was always up for some socialising, and when the pair had sweetened the deal with the promise of buying the first round of drinks, Jesse had been all in.

The reservation had been made under Hana’s name – being a celebrity had its perks – and the group were hidden in one of the large back booths with a full view of proceedings. The excitement in the air had been palpable, the team filled with energy and buzzing optimism that the longest running saga in Overwatch would finally have a happy ending.

They’d obviously forgotten who it was they were dealing with.

Jesse had arrived first, looking almost unrecognisable in a deep red button-down shirt and dark jeans, his BAMF buckle glinting in the low lighting as he’d been directed to their reserved table. It had been about 20 minutes later that Hanzo had turned up; he scrubbed up extremely well in his tailored pants and blue pin-striped waistcoat, and there had been a collective sigh of appreciation from Hana and Mei that had Lucio and Junkrat elbowing them to be quiet.

“ ** _Inconspicuous_**!” Junkrat whispered with a grin. “Remember?”

There was a quirked smile of confusion on Hanzo’s face when he’d been seated, staring briefly at his watch as he asked Jesse where the others were. Jesse simply shrugged, saying something about traffic and people getting here when they got here, but it was obvious from their hiding spot that he was just as confused.

They’d ordered drinks, making small talk that the group couldn’t hear over the increasing noise of the restaurant; it was difficult though for them to hold back the small hisses and fist-pumps of victory when after half an hour or so, Jesse leaned over to cup his hand around Hanzo’s face, their hands inching closer together across the table.

Jesse said something, Hanzo letting out a small chuckle as he threw his head back, and there was a shared air of satisfaction amongst the motley group when their fingers finally touched. Hanzo leaned forward to whisper something in Jesse’s ear, before freezing.

Mei was the first one to realise what Hanzo was staring at, and she gave a small shriek of panic.

“Guys, we’ve been spotted!”

Sure enough, Hanzo’s slowly hardening gaze fixed on their booth, and it was only a few seconds later that Jesse turned in his chair. Even from their distance, it was easy to see the myriad of emotions that had played out across the cowboy’s face: confusion, realisation, anger, hurt.

None of them moved a muscle as Jesse aggressively pushed himself from his seat, stalking over to the group as Hanzo followed close behind; neither man looked particularly amused.

“Someone wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” None of them spoke as Jesse folded his arms across his chest. “Cos’ I’m startin’ to get the feelin’ that you guys are yankin’ our chains and I wanna know why.”

Surprisingly, it was Angela who worked up the courage to answer.

“We just wanted to see you happy,” she admitted ashamedly.

Hanzo went tense behind Jesse as the implications of Angela’s words settled, his lips curling in distaste as he glared daggers at a shrinking Lucio.

“You lied. You told me that my brother had requested my presence.”

Jesse’s face darkened, his lips curling dangerously around his teeth.

“So yer not only decided to pull some joke, but you lied and got his hopes up that Genji wanted him here?” Jesse was practically snarling at this point.

“We didn’t mean it like that, we swear!” Hana interjected, the rest of the group desperately nodding and murmuring their agreement. “We just thought that-“

“I don’t give a damn what yer thought!” Jesse was absolutely fuming, Hanzo’s hands coming to rest on his shoulders in an attempt to calm down the irate cowboy. “Yer lied to me, yer lied to Hanzo! D’ya know how fucked up it is to mess ‘round with people like that? And for what, cos’ y’all wanted to have a laugh?”

“No, no, no!” Lena cried. “It’s just that…”

“Well, we wanted to…”

“You guys have been dancing around each other for months now…”

“Shut yer mouths!” Jesse spat out venomously, heaving a deep sigh as he let his eyes slip shut. When they opened again, the hurt in them was evident. “I don’t wanna hear it, we’re done here.”

Jesse turned on his heel, storming back to their table to grab his coat before walking out. Hanzo briefly hesitated, staring each one of them in the eye; he shook his head softly, his silent admonishment almost as painful as Jesse’s had been, before he walked away, following Jesse out the door.

“Well, that didn’t go entirely as planned…”

“You think?” Hana looked scathingly at Mei, brushing her hair from her face. “What gave you that idea? The part where Hanzo spotted us, or the part where Jesse gave us a piece of his mind?”

The rest of the group winced, but they couldn’t deny that their carefully laid out plan to push Jesse and Hanzo together had failed miserably despite their best efforts. If anything, all they’d achieved was upsetting them both, a sombre atmosphere enveloping the group as they slowly packed away and headed back towards the watchpoint, Jesse’s words sitting uncomfortably in their stomachs.

\--------

“Hana, just knock already will you?”

Hana wrinkled her nose, pointing a thumb at Lucio.

“I don’t see why I should be the one to do it, _you’re_ the one who lied to Hanzo about Genji!”

“Well, this whole thing was _your_ idea in the first place so…” Lucio retorted coolly.

“Jesus Christ,” Fareeha pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing in frustration before leaning forward and knocking firmly on Jesse’s door. “You’re a bunch of children.”

In the time that it had taken them to return back to the watchpoint, the group had realised that they need to apologise. Despite having the best intentions when they started out their plan, it had become obvious in their subdued conversations that they’d made a right royal mess of things; between Jesse’s righteous anger and Hanzo’s silent glare, they’d felt suitably ashamed of themselves.

They agreed on Jesse first. The anger he had shown at the restaurant had been particularly brutal, but it was the hurt in his eyes that had lingered in the minds of the group. It was rare for the cowboy to willingly show those kinds of emotions, usually preferring to keep them bottled up and to deal with them in his own ways; it was clear that their methods had gotten under his skin.

Angela had also pointed out that Jesse was much easier to approach regardless of his mood than Hanzo was – much easier to find too considering the archer’s habits of literally climbing walls when he didn’t want to be tracked down.

The sound of footsteps within the room was barely audible amongst the chatter, but as Jesse’s door slid open with a hiss, everyone fell into stunned silence.

Hanzo was clad only in his tailored pants, his feet and chest bare as he hooked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. His face was flushed, a slight sheen of sweat coating his skin. Just under his jawline was a particularly shiny bite mark, teeth indents still dark and vibrant.

“Honey, what’s takin’ you so… oh.”

Jesse’s head appeared on Hanzo’s shoulder, his arms coming to wrap possessively around the archer’s hips. He too was in a similar state of disarray, his hair plastered to his forehead and his lips swollen; his neck was also littered with darkening bruises. When he realised who was at his door, his face curled up into a pained grimace.

Lena awkwardly cleared her throat.

“We, uh, we wanted to apologise.”

“We shouldn’t have lied to you,” Angela added softly.

Mei nodded her head. “After months of watching you two, we just wanted you both to be happy.”

Despite himself, an amused huff left Jesse’s lips as he raised his eyebrow accusingly.

“And you never thought to just, y’know, ask us?”

The silence was apparently enough of an answer for the two men.

“I’ll admit, I’m still pissed as hell at y’alls for pullin’ that stunt,” Jesse started, before sighing disappointedly, nuzzling his nose behind Hanzo’s ear. “But I’m even more pissed that you lied to the two of us, Hanzo in particular…”

Lucio’s face burned red with guilt.

“I’m sorry man, I just got so caught up in everything…”

“I understand,” Hanzo finally spoke, his tone low as he let his hands rest over Jesse’s. “I have, however, informed my brother of this incident, so do not be surprised if he wishes to speak to you about it.”

Lucio swallowed roughly, his head lowering as he gave a sullen nod.

“But, to reiterate Jesse’s point,” Hanzo continued, “why go to all of this trouble when a simple question would have given you the answer you wanted?”

Lena and Mei bit their lips, Fareeha and Angela shrugging their shoulders.

“Come on then,” Junkrat was dying to know. “So what’s going on? Cos’ you two look awful cosy right now…”

A smirk crossed Hanzo’s face as he leaned back against Jesse, the cowboy brushing his lips against Hanzo’s temple.

“Don’t really reckon it’s none of y’alls business,” Jesse grumbled, although there was none of the anger in his words that there had been earlier. “But we’ve been datin’ for – how long is it now, darlin’?”

“Two months,” Hanzo answered with a nod, a faint smile curling his lips.

“So hang on,” Hana sounded scandalised, “all that flirting and sexual tension was actually…”

At the salacious grins on both men’s faces, she gave an exaggerated shudder.

“Ew.”

“Well, it ain’t my fault that my Hannybee is so damn sexy…” Jesse drawled with a wink.

Hana looked like she wanted to puke. Behind her, Mei and Lucio had gone red from the implication behind Jesse’s words. Angela and Fareeha, however, were smiling gently.

“It’s nice to see you the two of you so happy,” Angela imparted, warmth blooming in her chest at the genuinely pleased appreciation she received in return.

“Thanks Ang’,” Jesse murmured, embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

“Thank you, Doctor Zeigler,” Hanzo echoed before pulling himself up to his full height. “Now, if you all do not mind, we were in the middle of something.”

Hana gagged as the door slid shut in their faces.

“Well now,” Junkrat started, a malevolent glee in his voice as he rubbed his hands together. “I guess Operation McHanzo was a success after all!”


	19. Day Nineteen: Don't sass me (McCree)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this prompt was specifically requested by snazzy_dumpling, and to say I had a ridiculous amount of fun writing it would be an understatement! I really hope this lives up to your expectations :)
> 
> As always, prompts, reviews and comments are gratefully received and extremely appreciated!
> 
> Enjoy guys! :)

There were many words that could be used to describe Jesse McCree.

Brash. Charming. Deadly. Headstrong.

But shy would almost definitely not be one of them. Neither would ‘out of his depth’, but that’s immediately how he felt the first time his eyes met Hanzo’s.

Jesse had been expecting to despise Hanzo when he arrived at the watchpoint; it wouldn’t have been surprising considering his close friendship with Genji and the memories of an angry, bitter young man who’d been robbed of everything. Jesse had even had to give himself a pep talk to make sure that he didn’t punch the elder Shimada in the face with his metal fist, knowing that Genji wouldn’t be happy with him for assaulting his apparently repentant brother.

What Jesse most definitely was not expecting, however, was for his heart to skip a beat in his chest, his fingers curling into tight fists for entirely different reasons.

Simply put, Hanzo was fucking _divine_.

He was shorter than Jesse, but he felt larger than life, his shoulders pulled back and his head up, almost daring someone to say a word or make a move. The intricate tattoo decorating his skin – God lord, Jesse could feel his mouth watering as he instantly pictured running his tongue along the painted scales – only accentuated hard muscle and soft curves in all the right places.

His speckled hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, a gold ribbon trailing down the back of his neck, highlighting sharp cheekbones and even sharper eyes. Eyes that were watching him with an intensity that made a shiver crawl up Jesse’s spine.

“Brother,” Genji spoke with a rare excitement in his voice as he patted Jesse’s shoulder. “This is my dear friend, Jesse McCree. Jesse, my brother Hanzo.”

Jesse’s throat went tight as he struggled to swallow the lump in his throat. Tipping his hat politely, he desperately tried to keep his words level.

“Howdy partner, nice to finally meet ya, Genji’s told me a lot ‘bout ya.”

Jesse’s palms were sweaty as Hanzo stood silent, and Jesse got the distinct impression he was being analysed. After a few moments, a faint smirk curled Hanzo’s lips.

“Likewise, Jesse McCree,” and sweet baby Jesus but Jesse felt his knees buckle at the sound of his name falling from Hanzo’s mouth. His voice was low and rough, like crushed velvet, oozing power and damn but Jesse’s name had never sounded so fucking sinful. “I look forward to getting better… acquainted with you in future.”

There was a leer in Hanzo’s tone, his teeth glinting as his lips quirked into a salacious grin; there was a dark hunger backlighting his gaze, everything about the newcomer screaming danger, and holy hell Jesse had never felt so flustered in his life.

“Um, so I, uh, actually have a meetin’ I need to get to,” Jesse babbled, a deep flush of embarrassment colouring his cheeks as he roughly scratched his neck with shaking fingers. “Talk with ya later, Genji, and uh,” he swallowed thickly, near panic in his tone as he started backpedalling down the corridor. “Nice ta meet ya, Hanzo.”

Fleeing was such an undignified way to describe Jesse’s actions, but he could barely stop himself from running back to his quarters, a knot in his chest and an uncomfortable heat pooling in his stomach.

He was so fucked.

\------

It wasn’t that Jesse had never had a crush before.

He’d had plenty of crushes and one-sided affections in the past – hell, he’d even had a bit of a puppy dog infatuation with Reyes that had quickly been quashed once the Blackwatch commander had gotten wind of it and threatened to rip Jesse’s balls off – but this was something else entirely.

There was something about Hanzo that reduced Jesse to a squirming, hot mess with just a quirk of his perfectly manicured eyebrow. Something mysterious and dangerous that pressed all of Jesse’s buttons and left him embarrassingly dumbstruck.

It didn’t help either that some of the team had started to recognise what was happening, constantly teasing the flustered cowboy whenever Hanzo so much as looked in his direction. There always seemed to be an audience now to Jesse’s suffering.

The first time had been when him and the archer had been down in the practice range; Jesse had hoped that focusing on the calm rhythm of shooting would still his nerves, but it was impossible to stop himself from staring as the muscles in Hanzo’s arms and shoulder flexed. When the archer managed to split his third arrow in a row, Jesse had cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Pretty handy with that bow…”

The look Hanzo gave him as he lowered Stormbow could only be described as molten.

“I have been told in the past that I’m _extremely_ talented with my hands, _Jesse_ …”

Hanzo’s voice was rich and smooth as he all but purred Jesse’s name, his eyes dark as he appraised the cowboy, and Jesse all but lost control of his limbs, Peacekeeper and his speed loader slipping from his sweaty hand and landing on the floor with an ominous clatter; bullets scattered across the training range floor, and Jesse swore as he fumbled to collect them.

“Smooth moves Eastwood!”

The sound of hysterical laughter from behind him made him jump even more; he’d completely forgotten that Lucio and Fareeha were in the next range across, and the mortified blush that coloured his cheeks as he stammered out his excuses – _‘oh hey, look at the time, I gotta, uh, finish that report for Winston! Don’t wanna keep him waitin’ after all!_ ’ – had burned for hours.

The second time had been during team dinner. It was rare that the whole gang were at the watchpoint, so it was always nice to get together and relax for a few hours over some good food. It had been Jack and Reinhardt’s turn to cook, and the table was practically groaning under the weight of all of various plates.

Jesse had been sat between Hana and Brigitte, Hanzo and Genji across from him. He’d been trying to concentrate on the conversation going on when he felt a soft nudge against his calf. Instinctively glancing around to find the source, he’d instantly regretted it.

Genji was in animated discussion with his brother, but Hanzo’s attentions were firmly on Jesse as he sucked an errant strand of spaghetti into his mouth, his lips pursing and his cheeks hollowing almost obscenely. Jesse watched with wide eyes as Hanzo’s tongue chased the stray drops of sauce from around mouth; all of the blood in Jesse’s body immediately diverted south, and with shaking fingers he grabbed the glass of water beside him.

He was half way through taking a mouthful when Hanzo fucking _winked_.

Said mouthful ended up unceremoniously spat across the table.

Every voice in the vicinity quietened as what felt like a million set of eyes focused on him, but it was Hanzo’s gaze that Jesse could feel on him the most. Exaggerating a cough, Jesse beat his fist against his chest a few times.

“Sorry guys, forgot how to breathe for a secon’,” Jesse laughed awkwardly, hoping his excuse would cover for just how red his face had gone.

Most of the team had given him a strange look as they exchanged gazes, obviously realising that something was up.

“I would be more careful in future if I were you, Jesse,” Hanzo had remarked; his tone sounded bored but Jesse could hear the amusement in it. “After all,” Hanzo continued, his voice dropping an octave to a gravelly croon that did nothing to cool Jesse’s embarrassed arousal. “Don’t want to make a habit of choking on things…”

“I’m gonna get myself another drink, anyone else want one?” Jesse desperately chuckled, pushing himself out of his seat. He had nearly tripped in his rush to leave, ignoring Hana’s confused shout.

“Hey, you forgot your glass!”

The third time had been the worst so far.

It had been late as Jesse threaded his way through the corridors of the watchpoint. He had taken to eating and training at random hours in a near desperate attempt to avoid Hanzo, but it seemed as if luck didn’t want to play ball.

As he had turned a corner, he spotted Hanzo coming out of Genji’s room and he had cursed violently. He’d forgotten about their meditation sessions, and the sight of the archer in his skin-tight t-shirt and joggers had been enough to stop Jesse dead in his tracks; he hadn’t been able to restrain the high gasp he let out, and unfortunately, that had been more than enough to attract Hanzo’s attention.

Hanzo’s fingers had run roughly through his hair as he propped his elbow against the wall, cocking his hip out in a way that made the sinful curve of his back even more mouth-watering.

In doing so, he’d also conveniently blocked the corridor.

Jesse had bitten down on his lip so hard he could taste blood, his knees going weak as Hanzo tipped his head back, exposing the long column of his throat.

“Jesse…” Hanzo had called, heat colouring his tone as his eyes half-lidded. “Coming this way?”

Stretching with all the feline grace of a lion stalking its prey, Hanzo had chuckled at Jesse’s lack of movement; the cowboy could only gasp as Hanzo took a step closer, beckoning his finger in a way that made it less of a suggestion and more of a command.

Jesse had never been good with authority, even one as devastatingly handsome as Hanzo; he gave a desperate whine as he felt his jeans tighten uncomfortably before panic set in. The expression on Hanzo’s face was one of a hungry animal who had been presented with a feast, and Jesse found himself back pedalling despite himself.

In what probably ranked as one of the most humiliating moments of Jesse’s life, he’d turned on his heel in a desperate attempt to escape, only to immediately trip and faceplant hard against the edge of the door behind him.

“Jesse?” Hanzo called out, obvious concern in his tone, but the cowboy had barely heard him; ignoring the sharp dizziness that seized him, he’d scarpered with his dignity and his forehead in tatters.

Angela had only looked at him with an uncomfortable degree of sympathy and understanding when Jesse had reluctantly swung by the medical bay with a rather fantastic black eye and a hellish headache.

She’d given him painkillers and nano-cream for the swelling, telling him he was lucky not to have broken his nose or given himself a concussion in his stupidity. After she’d finished berating him though, she’d rested her hand softly on Jesse’s leg.

“You can’t keep doing this, Jesse,” she’d intoned sadly. “You need to talk to him.”

He’d shrunken under the weight of her gaze, his eyes dropping to the floor as his heart lurched painfully in his chest.

Of course she knew. Everyone knew.

What had started off as a joke had long since stopped being so funny when it became obvious that Jesse’s innocent crush on Hanzo had developed into full-blown feelings for the archer. The previously teasing comments and good-natured gags had slowly lessened, replaced with worried glances and attempted words of advice.

In fact, the only person who still seemed to be treating this as some big game was Hanzo himself, and Jesse winced as he felt tears beginning to burn the corners of his eyes.

Angela had noticed – of course she had – and she’d immediately wrapped her arms around the cowboy in a tight hug.

“Please, Jesse, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Jesse had sighed heavily, his chest aching.

“I know Ang’.”

\----------

Jesse did know, and that was what led him to be standing outside of Hanzo’s quarters at 2am, trying to work up the courage to knock.

He knew that Hanzo was awake; he could hear the sound of those cheesy Japanese dramas he claimed he didn’t watch. It had taken him the entire night to talk himself into his plan; aided by Angela’s painkillers and a shot of Whiskey for good luck, Jesse was as ready as he was ever going to be.

His stomach knotting in a heady mix of nerves and adrenaline, Jesse tapped his knuckles on the door.

He nearly buckled completely when it finally slid open, a faint look of surprise colouring Hanzo’s face. It nearly killed Jesse not to openly stare at the half-naked archer, his hair pulled back into a messy bun. Jesse could see the sly light of amusement beginning to enter the archer’s eyes, but before Hanzo could even breathe a word or get out some dirty quip, Jesse abruptly held up his palm, silencing him.

“ ** _Don’t sass me,_** I’m not in the mood fer it.”

Hanzo’s eyebrows raised at the grumble in Jesse’s tone, his body language immediately opening up into concern.

“Are you alright, Jesse? You seem troubled.”

Jesse winced at the soft honeyed gravel of Hanzo’s tone, biting down on his lip as he struggled to compose himself. He curled his fists tight by his side; he was starting to get annoyed at himself.

“Troubled ain’t the half of it, Hanzo,” Jesse ground out tiredly, his body slumping in a wave of exhaustion as he met Hanzo’s eyes. He could see his reflection in them, just how worn down and lovesick he looked, and that only made his heart clench at the sorry state his feelings for Hanzo had worked him into.

“I’m tired of the games.”

Hanzo’s face wrinkled in confusion; god help him, Jesse found it adorable, and he felt ashamed at how pathetic he had become.

“What do you mean?”

Jesse let out a frustrated sigh, running his metal hand down his face.

“You know exactly what I mean, gettin' off on seein' me all flustered,” he spat out with more anger than intended. “The touches, the comments, the _looks_ …”

Jesse paused, his stomach knotting at his own vulnerability as he felt those goddamn tears beginning to burn his eyes again.

“You’ve had your fun, I can’t deal with it anymore. It stopped being a game for me the second I started feelin’ more than a crush.”

There. He’d said it.

He didn’t feel any better for it though, hopelessness and hurt making it hard to breathe as he fixed his eyes firmly to the ground at Hanzo’s feet. The tension was palpable, and each second dragged by, Jesse could feel the nausea brewing in his gut. Swallowing down the sticky lump in his throat, he went to take a step back, only to be stopped by Hanzo’s fingers reaching out to wrap around his wrist.

“Please, Hanzo, just stop,” Jesse begged, desperation and naked pain clear in his voice.

Hanzo’s grip tightened, his free hand coming to curl under Jesse’s chin, forcing his eyes to meet Hanzo’s. There was fear and panic painted across Hanzo’s face, something that Jesse didn’t expect to see.

“Jesse, I apologise profusely,” Hanzo started, and Jesse flinched at his words, waiting for his feelings to be acknowledged and politely rejected.

“I shouldn’t have said nothin’, so fuckin’ stupid” Jesse berated himself viciously as he furiously blinked back the tears trying to force their way out.

“No, you are not!" Hanzo interjected powerfully, and Jesse froze, his heart thudding violently.

"I apologise, Jesse, it was never my intention,” Hanzo breathed out fiercely, and for a moment Jesse could hear the awkward regret in his tone. “I did not know how else to make my interest felt.”

Wait.

 _What_?

“When I asked Genji about you, he told me that you were partial to flirtations and charm, so that is what I did.” Jesse’s chin hit the floor, but Hanzo didn’t comment on Jesse’s stunned appearance. “I can see now that his advice was counterproductive.”

Jesse laughed.

It sounded almost drunk to his own ears, a hysterical grin curling his lips as he watched Hanzo shrink.

“Genji told ya to flirt with me to show your feelin’s?”

An embarrassed flush coloured Hanzo’s cheeks.

Jesse felt like he was soaring from the sudden lightness in his chest, his head spinning at the admission as – emboldened – he rested his hand on the curve of Hanzo’s shoulder.

“Sweet baby Jesus, we both kinda fucked this up, didn’t we sugar…” he smiled, shivering as Hanzo’s hands skirted down his side to rest hesitantly on Jesse’s hips. “Coulda saved ourselves this whole mess if you’d just asked, darlin’.”

As the implication behind Jesse’s words sunk in, the cowboy watched as Hanzo let out the breath he’d been holding, flickers of warmth blooming in his chest at the soft smile Hanzo gave.

“So, if I asked now?” Hanzo nearly tripped over the words in his flustered state.

Jesse couldn’t resist leaning forward to brush his lips against Hanzo’s, affection punching him low in the gut as Hanzo shyly reciprocated.

Oh, how the tables had turned.


	20. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> So this is just a quick update. I know that I'm now a few days behind on this, and I apologise to anyone who's been looking forward to daily updates. 
> 
> I mentioned when I started this series at the start of the month that my reason for doing this was as a form of recovery and motivation during a severe depressive episode, and unfortunately over the last few days my depression has been absolutely kicking my ass and generally destroying any energy that I have.
> 
> I WILL 100% complete this series by the new year, but I might end up doing a few extremely short prompts to help catch up the days. I do absolutely love writing this series and all of the people who have read/commented on it, so I'm determined to get it done!
> 
> Below I'm going to leave a list of the voice lines that I have left on my list and when I'm planning on writing specific prompts. 
> 
> If you have any other lines you want to see, or any ideas for the prompts that I have, then please feel free to comment them!

Symmetra - Were you expecting a miracle? (This will be written for Christmas Day - can we expect a Christmas miracle when it comes to Jesse and Hanzo?)

Winston - Party mode engaged! (This will be written for New Years Eve - how will our favourite duo ring in the New Year?)

Genji - I was hoping for a challenge (This will be the long awaited companion to Lucio's prompt)

Moira/Genji - Much more talkative now, aren't you, Genji?/I find the company more agreeable these days (This is an interaction, not a voice line, but still...)

Sombra - I'd love to stay and chat but I'm not going to.

Tracer - Cheers love, the cavalry's here!

Reinhardt - Respect your elders!

Widowmaker - Your emotions make you vulnerable.

Torbjorn - Too hot for you?


End file.
